


Old Soldiers Never Die

by Shadowblayze



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: At any rate Cloud needs hugs and fluffy blankets and love, Based off of an idea I read on on Tumblr, But I can't really write romance, Comfort/Angst, Disabled Character, I asked for permission to use it, M/M, Multi, Original idea was for ASGZ to meet C, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sort of drabble-y, Survivor Guilt, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowblayze/pseuds/Shadowblayze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>....they just fade away.</p><p>Cloud is stuck in the Midgar Slums.  A disabled vet easily cast aside by the company he fought, bled, and nearly died for.  </p><p>Struggling to keep his head above water in a place that is callously indifferent to his broken body, his damaged mind, and his bleeding soul is an hour-by-hour struggle.</p><p>Yet no matter how dark things get, Cloud is still Cloud.  Still the kind boy that chased after a girl he barely knew and tried to save her from herself.</p><p>But everyone needs a bit of help sometimes.  Is there anyone left who can save Cloud?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dark Utopia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [XxxbladeangelxxX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxxbladeangelxxX/gifts).



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Cloud tried to rotate his good shoulder a bit in an effort to relive some of the stiffness, and- par for the course nowadays- the motion pulled at the scarring on his back painfully.  Clamping his mouth shut to prevent the moan of pain from escaping Cloud stubbornly reached for another tool.

Working as a jack-of-all trades in the Midgar Slums was very much _not_ how Cloud intended for his life to go.  He had left Nibelheim at the tender age of thirteen. Cloud had left behind his backwater, mountainous hometown bright-eyed and with lofty dreams of becoming a SOLDIER. 

When he had failed the SOLDIER Exam, he had immediately signed up for the Infantry.  Cloud had been determined to get some experience, grow up a bit, and try again.  After your first shot, if you took the Infantry option, you had to go three years as an active Infantryman before you were eligible to take the SOLDIER Exam again.  The Infantry wasn’t so bad, though.  Unlike in Cadet training Cloud had been able to connect to his sometimes three-times-his-age peers.  Hell, he’d made some pretty good friends.

 _Don’t think about it._   Cloud told himself firmly as he grimly focused on his task.  A run-down, piece of shit pipe in in bathroom of shitty apartment 54A in the Sector Seven Slums.  Cloud’s eyes started to glaze and he desperately pushed back against the _volume_ of emotion that swelled in his chest as his thoughts touched on his former comrades.

 _They would have made it if they had not had to carry you._   His traitorous mind supplied gleefully.  _Really, you bring harm to everything you care about, don’t you Cloud?_

Cloud’s unit had mostly consisted of older guys who had managed to survive the slaughter that was the Wutai War.  Let him tell you, the stories from the Infantry’s perspective were far different than the legends of the Top Three.  Stories of ‘friendly fire’, men being left to die in shitty field tents because it was more cost effective, and about a thousand and one other atrocities.  In the beginning Cloud had listened to those stories and swore to himself that he would become a SOLDIER and change things.  However, as time plodded forward and Cloud experienced the truly callous nature of Shinra, his naiveté and zeal slipped away.

By the time sign-ups came for the SOLDIER Exam came around, Cloud barely managed to work up the necessary resolve to sign the damn forms.

 _Not that it mattered, in the end._   The blond thought as he carefully repacked his tools and slowly hefted himself up so he could check the sink.  The door to the apartment opened with a loud _bang_ not a moment later causing Cloud to flinch and slip; his chin hitting the edge of the counter and splitting open as he went down.  Not that Cloud cared, because he had crumpled all the way to the ground and had done his best to hide his head under his arms.

Something he could no longer do properly, with his bad arm- the Shinra supplied prosthetic had crapped out in under a week- and the scarring across his back being what it was.  Per usual when one of his triggers was tripped, his limbs shook and he forced himself to focus on counting while taking deep, measured breaths.  It did not work, not completely.   Cloud could still smell the acrid, pungent smoke forcing itself into his nose even through his scarf.  He could still feel Jonsey’s blood on his hands as the man died in Cloud’s arms.  Cloud’s breathing turned ragged, despite his efforts, and bitter tears pooled in his eyes as the disjointed memories of the moment his life went to _shit_ tried to overtake his vision entirely. 

A moment later- it had to be, even if it felt like hours- a Slum woman with hard lines around her mouth opened the bathroom door and started screeching about how he was _supposed to be done already_ and her _kids were coming home_ _soon_ and how _pathetic_ Cloud was, _huddled on the floor like that_.

Cloud took the verbal lashing- he _deserved_ it, after all- and stayed curled up on the floor for a while after the woman stormed off, presumably to call the building manager and complain.

 _Just another day in Shinra’s poor man’s paradise_ , Cloud thought contemptuously as he regained control of his shivering limbs and began the arduous task of rising to his feet.

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	2. Stranded

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Cloud wove through the Sector Six Slums deftly, for all that he walked with a bit of a limp nowadays. 

The muscles were fine, but Shinra had not been overly concerned with the finer points of his nervous system once Cloud had declined to consent to ‘experimental treatments’.  If he had signed the forms, Shinra would have taken care of him.  Set him up with a high-quality prosthesis and healed him to the fullest extent possible with their technology and Materia.

However, by that point Cloud had seen too much.  He _knew_ that the words on the contract were only worth the ink that had formed them.  So he had taken the crappy prosthetic they had grafted for him, his meager belongings, and had been medically discharged from the Shinra Infantry less than three hours after he had woken up in Midgar.

Less than forty-eight hours after his life had gone to _shit_ , but that was okay because they gave him some glossy pamphlets that would ‘see you through your transition back into civilian life, sweetheart’.

Cloud had never really possessed a desire to punch a woman in the throat, but he had quickly learned that there is a first time for _everything_.

Cloud had left Nibelheim with a pathetic few amount of belongings, most of which had not survived his tenure in the Infantry.  By now his personal belongings consisted of a few toiletry items, a change of clothes, and the blanket his great-grandmother had quilted when his Ma had been born. 

It had been a fickle stroke of luck that had landed his first fix-it job- apparently growing up poor in a rural town was good for something- and the semi-consistent stream of jobs had been what kept him going.  It allowed him to keep sending money back to his Ma, though he never wrote anything about his squad mates or his job anymore.

Knowing that he had proved everyone in Nibelheim _right_ \- that he had _wasted_ all the sacrifices that Ma had made to raise him alone like she had- was probably the deepest wound.  Nothing could rip his beating heart from his chest and _twist_ it quite like the knowledge that Ma had sacrificed _everything_ for naught.  The definitive knowledge that he was _absolutely inadequate_ and that he was _better off dead_ than returning to Nibelheim a _cripple_ still stole the breath from his lungs some nights.  It was a dull knife to the gut and a shrapnel wound in his _soul_ whenever he really stopped and thought about how utterly alone he was now.

No squad mates to lean on.  No Ma to make everything right.  No Tifa; because Cloud could not rescue _anyone_ , he knew that for a _fact_ now.  No Nibelheim, unpleasant as his childhood had been the base of Mt Nibel was still his _home_.  Knowing that he absolutely could not return was an unpleasant, unexpected, and uninvited heartbreak.

Now it was just him, his mostly-useless body, and the quagmire of human suffering that was life Under the Plate.

Cloud’s breaths began to quicken and he instinctively started to edge away from the main streets, just in case.

The shiny, laminated pamphlet that had come with his discharge packet had warned of ‘possible violent outbursts’ from ‘damaged persons’.  It had actually said that.  ‘Damaged persons’.  As if Cloud and those like him had somehow become something _lesser_.  Less human, less worthy.

Cloud pressed his back against a tin wall in an alleyway- instincts honed more from living in the Slums than his time in the Infantry- scanning the alleyway for any possible unfriendlies before he braced his good arm against his knee and let his head loll forward so he could _breathe_.  Blond hair framed his face as the young man tried to bring the shattered pieces of himself back together _just enough_ to make it through the next few hours.

This was his life now, this progression of dying by inches.  Fading away in this cesspool of broken dreams.  Unravelling further with every step he tried to make towards recovery, redemption, or release.

It had been nearly two years since everything had changed.  Cloud had turned twenty down here.  Hell, by the calendar he was nearly twenty-one.  Yet he felt as if had not taken a single step past eighteen years old, seven months, and nineteen days.

_Sometimes I think that the SOLDIER who pulled me out from under Trembly’s body and made sure I made it back to Midgar is the cruelest bastard ever to grace the Planet._

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Aerith planted her hands on her hips determinedly as she inspected the errant wheel of her cart.  She had brought her mother’s shopping cart on her errand to Wall Market and now she deeply regretted that choice.  At the time her mother had asked, though, all Aerith had been thinking was that going to the Church to retrieve one of the carts Zack and Angeal had made her would have nearly tripled her errand time.

“Do you need some help?”  A quiet, softly accented voice asked from a bit to the left and behind her.

Aerith whirled around, her hand moving to her staff out of habit.  There were other people milling about, passing by quickly as they went about their business, even on the quieter side-street she had managed to baby the cart down.  The person who had called out to her was a blond man with the brightest blue eyes she had ever seen on an unenhanced person.  His light blond hair hung down to his chin in front and was tied up in a mid-level tail in the back.  He dressed in what she suspected were Shinra surplus Infantry clothes, dangerous things to be wearing in the Slums.  Then she noticed that his left arm was neatly tucked against his side under the shirt, leaving the shirt sleeve empty.   The toolbox he was carrying actually had a harness and was attached to a chain that hung front his belt; as opposed to being carried in his right hand, as she had assumed at first glance.

Then Aerith realized that she had been rudely staring at someone who had offered to help her.

“I’m so sorry!”  She gushed as she clasped her hands in front of her and offered the man her most sincere smile.  “I wasn’t meaning to be rude!”  She babbled quickly.  “It’s just-“

“The arm.  Or the clothes.”  The man replied wryly in that smooth, calming voice. A small, sad ghost of a smile tugged at his mouth.  “It’s alright.  Happens a lot.”

“Actually.”  Aerith cocked her head to the side and took another small step towards the man.  “I was surprised you offered to help.”  She amped up the charm in her smile and injected as much cheer as she could into her next words.  “I’ve been here near an hour already, and you’re the first one to acknowledge me!  I had to make sure you weren’t a crazy person, you see!”  Aerith added a sage-like, silly nod at the end of her statement and grinned brightly.  “But I like you, so that’s that!”

The man arched a blond brow at her and his let out sort of a breathy half-chuckle, half-sigh.

Aerith pouted.  She bet he was adorable when he actually smiled!  She wanted to see it!

The man walked towards the cart steadily, though there was a bit of a hesitation in his steps at one point, and kneeled down by the errant wheel, deftly disengaging his toolbox from its place on its chain as he did so.  The blond fiddled with a few things and then hummed lightly, opening his toolbox and searching for a tool.

Aerith wandered closer and bent over his shoulder so that she could see better.  The man stiffened, instantly uncomfortable.

“Could you please move a little more to the side?”  He asked politely as he shifted a knee under the cart and began to use the tool he had procured on the wheel’s fastenings.  “Sorry.”  He added after she obligingly shifted.  “It just bothers me to have someone right behind me when my hand’s busy.”

 _It makes him vulnerable._   Aerith realized suddenly, feeling positively horrible for making such a kind stranger feel uncomfortable.  “Nonono- I’m sorry!”  She blurted out guiltily, wind milling her hands in front of her as she tried to express how _sorry_ she was for being so _incredibly rude_.

The blond gave her that sad half-smile tug on his lips thing again.  “It’s fine.”  He assured her as he shifted and replaced his leg with a small, collapsible jack from the bottom of his toolbox.  It had a few extra additions that Aerith assumed the blond had made himself, but she did not dare ask after how rude she had already been to poor guy!

The next few minutes passed in silence.  Well, as much silence as being on a side-street in the Slums ever allowed.  Eventually the man shifted backwards a bit and gestured to the cart.  “I’m going to keep my tools out until you push it and let me know if it’s working alright.”

“Ok!”  Aerith chirped brightly, bouncing a bit on her toes from her place by the cart’s front handle and resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to wrap the man up in a fluffy, warm blanket and smother him in hugs.  “Oh, wow!”  Aerith exclaimed, green eyes wide with surprise as she tested the cart’s mobility.  “It’s never rolled this smoothly!”

“It’ll do, then?”  The blond asked softly, tilting his head back a bit so he could see her properly.

“Oh, yes!”  Aerith gushed happily as she wheeled the silly thing in circles a few times, marveling at its smooth handling.  “Thank you so much!”

“It’s no problem.”  The blond demurred, packing up his tools with his good hand before snapping his toolbox shut and reattaching the harness to the chain attached to his belt.

Aerith gasped.  “But it _is_!  I had no idea how I was to get everything home alright!”  Aerith wheeled the cart closer and fixed the blond with the pleading look that always got Zack or Angeal to cave to her whims.  “And I don’t have enough gil to thank you properly-“

“It’s really not-“

“-so you should come back and have dinner with my mother and I!”  Aerith finished, ignoring the man’s interruption blithely as she continued to use her eyes to beg.  “Please?  You were really nice to me and I want to make sure you feel properly appreciated!”

The blond hesitated, resisting. 

So she upped the ante and tried out her ‘kicked puppy’ look.  (She was totally attempting to channel Zack, really.)  “Please?”

The blond hesitated a bit more before sighing gustily and capitulating.  “If you’re really set on it.”  He murmured lowly, his eyes glancing down and to the left.

 _Success!_   Aerith crowed triumphantly in her mind as she began babbling cheerfully and steering the man back towards the Gainsborough home.  The brown-haired young woman did stay on the man’s left, hoping it would make him more comfortable even though he was essentially her gently coerced hostage at the moment.

Meh, semantics.

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	3. Food for Thought

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Cloud sat at the Gainsborough dinner table uncomfortably.  Aerith kept up a steady stream of cheery chatter and her mother had been surprisingly compassionate towards him, but it had been a long time since he had last eaten a meal with other people.

Or even at a table, actually.

Slowly and as carefully as he could manage he lifted the simple but pleasant smelling meal to his mouth, bite by bite.  As Aerith’s chatter washed over him and the warmth that exuded the humble, cheerful home lulled him into blissful contentment, Cloud’s thoughts wandered.

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In the aftermath of his abrupt discharge and the imminent failure of his Shinra-supplied prosthesis, Cloud had largely given up. 

However, after the first job he had acquired- he had helped a man a block from the train station jerry rig a replacement for his broken window, and the man had given him fifty gil- he had held on to the thought of still being able to send money back to his Ma like it was the only thing left for him in the entire world.  The pamphlets had stressed the need for food, as his muscles were in a delicate enough state and to force his body to cannibalize them would permanently impair himself further. 

So Cloud had eaten.  Even though he really could not taste anything he put into his mouth and it felt more like he was attempting for force down ash than food most of the time.  Cloud made sure he ate as much as he thought he should, based on his previous routine; so at least three fairly decent meals whenever possible and many mass-produced Shinra field rations from the Shinra Infantry Surplus store from his trips Above the Plate to shop.

The sole reason the Shinra Infantry Surplus store got his business was the thirty-five percent discount they gave him, due to him being a combat wounded veteran.  Even with the cost of taking the train up to the store, it still saved him quite a bit of gil.  Strangely, the grey warehouse-type store was more of a comfort than a trigger, despite being surrounded by reminders of Shinra and his Infantry days.  The dark blue shirts and cargo pants with the brown combat boots and assorted brown belts were familiar, despite his disability.

Cloud figured it was all the practice he had had at getting up for Drill and dressing after the showers in Basic that had allowed him to be able to navigate the clothing with a decent amount of ease. 

The blond had been rather daunted by the overwhelming amount of simple tasks that had ceased to be simple after his accident, and especially after the total loss of his prosthetic.

Getting dressed, showering, walking, grooming himself, shopping- all things that had been slight nuisances or maybe a little inconvenient before had suddenly transformed into monumental tasks.  Hell, learning how to walk with his toolbox attached to his waist had been hellish.  Suddenly trips and minor falls had become especially treacherous- especially in the first months when his stump had still been healing.

Oh, Shinra had sort of healed the outside of the wound before strapping on the prosthetic, but the deep healing took months.  The phantom pains from his missing limb nearly more painful than the pain in the stump itself or from the shoddily-healed burns that spanned from his right armpit and the back of the same shoulder to his left shoulder blade.

But the need to send money home to Ma kept him going. 

It made him eat even though he did not feel like he deserved to.  It made him get up every morning and search out odd jobs, even though it meant talking to people after dragging his broken body through a routine that felt more akin to torture than simple morning ablutions.  Slowly Cloud built up a reputation among those he did jobs for and he was able to simply go to established points of contact and pick up requests people had turned in for him instead of going door-to-door and dealing with wary, unsympathetic Slum denizens who had learned the hard way to look out for number one early on in life.

Cloud really did not blame them, though.  Especially considering the fact that he lived in the Sector Eight Slums, the most lawless of all the Midgar Slums.

Truthfully Cloud would have died from one of the frequent monster attacks had Jonesy not insisted that Cloud take his trench knives as a backup weapon before they landed and everything had gone to _shit_. 

Jonesy’s trench knives were two eleven inch spring steel beasts that were made from a highly resistant combination of metals and chemically treated to be resistant to just about every type of ick that they could presumably be dirtied with.  One of them had Jonesy’s name engraved on it, along with his birthday.  It’s twin had Jonesy’s lover’s name engraved on it- Lem, from Third Company- along with his birthday.  The sheaths had the day the two had married in Junon stamped onto them.  Lem had died in an ambush three days before his retirement went through, about a year before, so Jonesy had been carrying both knives for a while.  Cloud had wanted to give them to Jonsey’s mom- the person who had gotten the knives for the couple- but he did not know where in Junon she lived and it was not like he could just go up to someone and _ask_ for that information.

So Cloud had learned- though sheer determination and many near death experiences- how to fight monsters with one good arm and a couple of trench knives.  The blond was certain that he was doing it wrong- _like he did everything else_ \- but he was good enough that it kept him alive and earned him a bit of extra gil as a bonus.  He had had some trouble with thugs in the beginning- and more than one pimp, apparently he was still _pretty enough_ for some of them- but he had dug deep into his Nibel heritage and had managed to limp away the victor from those encounters. 

As his reputation as a handyman grew and the number of monsters near his shitty apartment dwindled, the encounters became less frequent.  Though he never let his guard down.  Even after he moved to the Sector Seven Slums, as most of his requests came from Sectors other than the Sector Eight Slums.

Another thing that being fixated with sending money back to his Ma helped him avoid was street drugs.

Cloud had flirted with the idea more than once during his darker moments, but the sheer practicality of the cost of a drug habit always made itself known before he could go through with his plan to try it ‘just once’.  He was not a saint.  He had circled the known dealing locations several times during a single evening- or night, or early morning- more than once as he turned the idea over in his head and tried to block out his nightmares.  In the end, though, he just could not bring more shame to his Ma.  He had already failed her as a son, but at least he could send enough gil to keep her comfortable and the neighbors’ mouths shut.  If he took up a habit he knew the gil would dry up to feed it and he just could not bring himself to do that to her, not now.

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“-loud?  _Heeellllooooooo_?”  Aerith’s hand fluttering in front of his face snapped Cloud back to the present and he flinched backwards a bit when he realized that he had been spacing out.

“Sorry.”  He muttered softly, looking down at his hand in shame as the tips of his ears turned bright scarlet.

Aerith huffed and poked him gently in his good shoulder until he peeked at her through his blond fringe.  “I was asking if you wanted to see my church?”

“Oh, ah-“  Cloud stammered, suddenly terrified of making even more of an ass out of himself in front of this pretty, sweet young woman.  His breaths came a bit quicker as panic gripped his lungs as everything that could go wrong tumbled through his chaotic mind.

“Hey, it’s alright.”  Aerith told him, bright eyes kind and patient.  “But my church has flowers.”

That was unexpected enough that Cloud managed to wrangle his turmoil under control a bit.  “I thought flowers didn’t grow in Midgar?”  the end of his statement held a questioning lilt.

“Mine do!”  Aerith cheered excitedly, bouncing a bit in her seat before clasping her hands settling them into her lap as she sat forward a bit.  “I think you’ll really like them!”

“Ah-“

“Awesome!”  Aerith cheered excitedly, glancing over at her mother with a bright smile.  “I’ll do the dishes when I get home, ok?”

“It’s fine, I’ll do them tonight.”  Elmyra Gainsborough told her daughter with a shake of her head and, much like her daughter, ignoring Cloud’s soft protests.  “You go show your blond friend the church.”  Elmyra gave Cloud a shrewd side-glance. “He looks like he could appreciate the true worth of your sanctuary.”

The Gainsborough women shared concerned, sad glances.  The young man was so very obviously broken and yet he had stopped to help Aerith, despite not knowing her and had asked for nothing in return.  The gesture was especially poignant in that getting down on the ground in the middle of the street had put him at risk- not to mention already having a distinct disadvantage due to his disability and the lack of a prosthetic- and yet he had _still stopped_ ; had still helped a stranger simply because he _could_.

That quality was so rare in the Slums there was usually a higher chance of seeing the sky itself.

Aerith gently bullied Cloud out the door, calling a cheery goodbye over her shoulder to her mother as the younger woman shut the door behind her.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to darkthoughts-curiousplots for pointing out my 'hands' typo!


	4. Sanctuary

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Aerith’s eyes carefully tracked Cloud’s quiet amazement as he walked closer to the largest patch of flowers that grew in her church.  She bit her lip to keep from crying.

But it was a struggle because there was something _truly beautiful_ in seeing the nearly serene, almost blissful expression on the blond’s face as he carefully knelt in front of the flowers and ran a gentle, nearly reverential finger so gingerly across the joyfully swaying blossoms.  The blond’s blue eyes sparked with childish wonderment and a small smile settled on his lips.

For Aerith, it was confirmation.  Seeing Cloud filled with _life_ for even a brief moment was enough for her to see just how breathtaking he could truly be.

Aerith resolved to not give up on him.

Oh, she knew she had just met him, but she did not need to be of Cetra descent to see that the blond was extraordinary.  Aerith pasted on her most cheerful expression and bounced towards the blond, sinking down next to him on his non-damaged arm’s side.  “See?”  She chirped sunnily as she gently clasped his wrist when he went to jerk it away in surprise.  Aerith gently pried his fingers loose and returned them to her flowers, keeping her eyes on her task and giving the blond some semblance of privacy.

“They’re beautiful.”  Cloud offered after a few moments of silence, broken only by Aerith’s soft humming as she gently moved Cloud’s hand down to the soft soil and only let go once he twisted his fingers into the still slightly damp earth.

“Thank you!”  Aerith gushed as she started fussing with the soil and smiling in victory when the blond began to hesitantly follow suit.  “I don’t know why, but even though everyone says Midgar can’t grow grass, my flowers always grow just fine!”  She huffed and scooted forward a bit.  “Do you have a favorite flower, Cloud?”

Aerith wanted to hold her breath when the blond stiffened and retreated into himself.  However she just hummed a tune she remembered hearing somewhere and listened to the whispers of the Planet as she let the blond work through things at his own pace.  She was a little disappointed when he merely went back to work without a word, but the fact that he had not left was heartening.  So Aerith allowed enough time to pass to let him re-center himself and began to chatter about her flowers and the types she wished she could grow and how she wished she could take out some of the pews and maybe plant some fruit or even a tree!  The ceilings were certainly high enough to hold a tree comfortably!

Cloud didn’t do more than make small noises of acknowledgement, but he stayed.

For now, that was enough.

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Aerith had needed stalk Cloud a little at first, but by the time a month had gone by he had mostly gotten the picture that if he did not come see her she _would_ find him.  Not only would she find him, she would find him, ‘invite’ him to dinner, and then proceed to drag him to the church with her for the next few hours.

Cloud never did more than passively sit there and work the soil once she took his hand and pushed his fingers into the soil.  Yet as time went by his tiny smile appeared a few more times and his noncommittal hums became lengthier noises.

Once that became rather routine, Aerith moved to the next phase of her master plan- tugging gently on his blond bangs until he made eye contact with her.  Eye contact seemed to make him vaguely terrified and slightly panicky, but she would just give him her most effusive smile and giggle before going back to the flowers.

His endearing confused expression was just a bonus.  Seriously, the guy was far too cute for Aerith’s inner fangirl to handle sometimes.  And he was _sweet_.  Not in a contrived way or with some sort of sneaky agenda, Cloud was just uncommonly kind to everyone.

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 _Well, except aggressive monsters and assholes_ , Aerith amusedly mentally amended two weeks into month two after she had adopted Cloud. 

Aerith and Cloud had been on the way to the church that evening when a gang of guys had apparently marked them as easy targets and had surrounded them.  Aerith had her staff out in an instant, but Cloud had only calmly unclipped his toolbox, letting it clatter to the asphalt and stood there with a frighteningly blank expression.

When the group had decided to press their luck Aerith had readied herself, but then Cloud had _moved_.

The blond didn’t have the grace of Angeal’s trained movement or the fluidity of Zack’s, but what he lacked in finesse he made up for in sheer speed and dauntless determination.

Aerith hadn’t even gotten to whack any of the six with her staff before they were all on the ground, slightly bleeding, no doubt bruised, and definitely humbled.  They quickly picked up their unconscious or possibly dead comrades and slinked away.

Cloud had stumbled over to his toolbox and flinched violently when a door slammed loudly somewhere down the street.

The broken, lost, scared look he gave her when she tugged on his bangs had nearly broken her heart all over again.  “Good job!”  She chirped brightly, faltering slightly when his expression grew stormy.

“I should go.”  Cloud mumbled, his breaths coming in pants and his limbs beginning to tremble as he clumsily reattached his toolbox to his belt.

“Cloud.”  Aerith said calmly, injecting as much serenity as she could muster into her voice as she knelt down and looked at his downcast, terrified face.  “Cloud.”  She tried again, resisting the urge to hug him silly and taking a deep breath before she began to chatter.  “We’re a block from the church.”  She began in a gentle, even voice.  “I’ve been trying to talk you into helping me take out the left row of pews and making another flower bed!  I think we’re going to need to go get another thing of water tonight if I manage to talk you into it, though………”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Cloud began to calm down.  The shaking slowly stopped and his eyes lost the frightening haze that had fallen over them.  His shirt was slicked with sweat but his breathing smoothed and about ten minutes later Cloud was looking at her in confusion.

Aerith smiled brightly.  “Welcome back!”

Cloud swallowed harshly and blinked rapidly before he looked down and began to struggle to his feet.  “I should go.”

“Hey!  You can’t go!   We have shenanigans to pull!”

Cloud, who had turned away from her, looked over his shoulder with a confused expression.  “But-“

Aerith planted her hands on her hips and leaned forward a bit.  “You and me, Cloudy.  We’re a team!  A duo!  I cannot perform shenanigans by myself, mister!  You’re committed!”

“Um.”  Cloud’s expression cycled through more emotions than Aerith could keep up with, but she kept her own expression open and eventually the tension in his shoulders relaxed a bit and he turned back towards her.  “Aerith, I almost hurt you.  I’m pretty sure I killed at least one of them!”  The blond’s voice raised and his expression grew haunted.

It was the most she had heard him say since the day he had fixed her cart.

“No, you didn’t.”  She stepped forward and let her hand hover above his chest, her eyes silently asking for permission to touch him.  Slowly his good hand came up and pushed her hand to his chest, the expression on his face threatening to break her resolve entirely.

 _Who would ever hurt someone as kind as Cloud badly enough that he would be so confused by the simplest kindness?_ Aerith thought sadly as she smiled softly at her friend.  “You had a moment, there, but I was never in any danger.  You kept me safe, Cloud.  It’s ok.”

“I kept you…safe?”  Cloud repeated perplexedly, his blond brows contracting in confusion as if he could not even fathom such a thing happening.

“Of course!”  She pressed her palm a bit firmer to his chest and gave him her most earnest stare.  “You’re my friend, Cloud.  You’re never gonna get rid of me, now!  Not even if you try to hide in the Honeybee Inn as a working girl!”  Aerith bounced a bit and tipped up onto her toes to gently lay a kiss on the stunned man’s cheek.  “Everybody needs help sometimes, Cloud.  You won’t fight alone.  Not with me here.”  She fixed him with a foreboding glare.  “And if you try to run I’ll just pitch a tent in the church and sit on you until you promise to stay!”  She grinned impishly and tugged him forward lightly by the cloth of his shirt.  “Hey!  As a bonus, maybe you could get the shower and stuff working there!  Then it could really be your home away from home!”

Cloud was silent the entire way to the church, but that was fine.

Aerith was _never_ going to give up on him.  Not when she had seen glimpses of who he _could_ be and how _utterly breathtaking_ he was when he was _happy_.

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	5. Tenative

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For all that he was terrified of getting Aerith hurt- because everyone he loved left him eventually- Cloud was slowly acclimating to having a _friend_.

It was hard some nights, to lie in bed and imagine _all the things that could go wrong_ and how much Cloud _did not deserve comfort_.  Cloud would wake up grimly determined to avoid Aerith until _she came to her senses_ _and left him alone_.  Of course, that lasted for all of about twenty or so hours before for the cheerful young woman would blithely burst her way into his day and drag him off to parts unknown at her whim.

Aerith never pushed too far- she never told him to ‘get over it’ or forced him to talk about what had happened to him- but she gently and patiently prodded at him until he relaxed.  Cloud hadn’t really noticed how hyper-paranoid he had truly been until he looked back at how he had been before he had met Aerith.

It was truly pitiful, but for the past month he had not woken up at least four times a night- either from a nightmare or a loud sound that permeated his uneasy sleep.  It was not the ‘waking up’ part that had been killing him, though, it was the hour-long perimeter check he would have to do before he could even think about going back to sleep, no matter how exhausted he was, _every time he woke up_.  Many times, after the second unexpected return to consciousness he would sleep in a semi-ready position beside his bed, with the handles of Jonesy’s trench knives curled tightly in his hands, just in case.  If he just lay in bed after awakening, he would lie there and slowly wind himself up into a full-on panic as his mind spun with scenario after scenario of things that could go wrong and ways he was being useless.  Consequently, he would be unable to get back to sleep at all.

Just last night had managed to cut his perimeter check down to fifteen minutes and had only woken up once.  Cloud had gotten nearly _six hours_ of uninterrupted sleep.  _Six whole hours_.  He had overslept, even!

Cloud woke up this morning with a strangely clear head and unusually ordered thoughts.  That day, while he walked around the Slums doing his odd jobs he noticed things he had not noticed before.  Things he had largely overlooked in his numb, exhausted, hyper-paranoid haze.  Empty buildings, piles of rubble that became monster breeding grounds, the way the children looked so downtrodden.

Strangely light, Cloud nodded decisively to himself and went to find Aerith.

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Aerith had been startled when the door to the church opened during the mid-afternoon, but when she saw her favorite blond enter she was quick to hop up and greet him.  “Cloud!”  She cheered excitedly, bouncing over to him and throwing her arms around him once she noticed the relaxed glint in his eyes.

She had been working on getting Cloud used to hugs for nearly two weeks, and she was especially pleased when Cloud shyly wrapped his good arm around her and pulled her close.  They stayed like that for a long moment.  Aerith with her nose buried in the hollow of Cloud’s collarbone, greedily soaking up the comforting, steady aura the blond constantly gave off ; and Cloud with his chin resting on top of Aerith’s head as the scent of flowers and earth mixed with the faintest hint of her perfume soothed him.

Reluctantly Aerith stepped back, but not quite far enough to dislodge Cloud’s arm entirely.  “So~, what’s the occasion?”

Cloud shuffled a bit in place and absently tugged lightly on the ends of her hair that brushed over his hand, but Aerith just waited patiently for him to work things out.  Well, she was feeling a bit needy so she hummed and rested her forehead against the curve of Cloud’s bad shoulder.  Aerith smiled softly into the fabric of his shirt when he tentatively moved from tugging and twisting the ends of her hair to rubbing soothing circles on her back.

Eventually Cloud spoke.  “I…had a thought.”

“Hm?”  Aerith tilted her head just enough so that she could peek at him with one bright green, highly inquisitive eye.

“Well.”  Cloud floundered a bit, but he took a deep breath and calmed himself before he continued.  “You know how most of the lots on the side streets and stuff are mostly just empty ‘cause all of the manufacturing moved Above the Plate?  They’re all pretty much common ground ‘cause no one really owns them anymore, not since Upper Plate  Midgar abandoned the smaller towns the Plate was built over, anyways.  Well, what if we cleaned a couple of them up and made places for kids to play?  Maybe you could even plant some flowers.  But only if you wanted to.”  Cloud shuffled around a bit more and a flush crept up his neck and spread over his face, making his splash of freckles stand out, which caused Aerith to giggle.

“Let’s do it!”  She cheered excitedly, giving him a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek before she pulled back to grin brightly up at him.

Cloud’s shyly pleased expression was too adorable for words.

“We’ll corrupt the Slums with flowers!  It’ll be a complete takeover!”  Aerith sang brightly as she twirled in an excited circle before bounding closer to Cloud once more.  “Most folks don’t like the junction points where the sunlight filters through because the air down here tends to be heavy and hot anyways.”  She chirped out as she dragged Cloud over the main flowerbed so they could begin their ritual.

“I was thinking about that.”  Cloud replied softly as he dug into the well-tended earth easily.  “We could use that to our advantage.  Set up some shelters and frame the roofs to hold the flowers, while giving the kids some shade.”

“That’s brilliant, Cloud!”  Aerith gasped with a proud, silly grin as she lightly bumped him in the shoulder.  “I don’t know why no one has ever thought of that before now, it makes so much sense!”

“Most people don’t have a flower fairy for their best friend.”  Cloud teased her good-naturedly, his voice sounding nearly normal despite it still being a bit quiet.  Then what he said registered and he quickly attempted to backtrack.  “I mean-

“Nope!”  Aerith chirped cheerfully as she pumped a fist with a flower in it in the air.  “I am now Aerith the Flower Faire.”  She waved the blossom under Cloud’s nose imperiously.  “All shall look upon me and…….love flowers?”  She finished a bit lamely, pouting a bit as her grand speech derailed.

Then Aerith forgot how to breathe because Cloud _laughed_.

An honest-to-Gaia, _full out laugh_.  The kind that causes your eyes to slip shut and triggers the involuntary upwards tilt of your head as the mirthful sound bursts forth unexpectedly from your belly.

Cloud leaned on his good hand and laughed for a good minute before he looked at her- with bright, lively, happy eyes that made her heart melt even as it soared- and poked her gently in the arm.  “All hail the almighty bouquet?”  He asked her with a grin.

Aerith sniffed pompously and reached forward to plant her prop flower behind Cloud’s ear.  “Indeed, plebian.”  Aerith leaned back and offered the same silly, sage-like nod she had given during their first meeting.

Cloud’s lips stayed curled into an impossibly warm smile, but Aerith pouted that she didn’t get to hear his lovely laugh again.

Ah, well.  Needs must and all that.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Slums have a few playgrounds, but not playgrounds with flowers. Cloud is thinking about things based on what he's seen and I imagine there aren't really all that many playgrounds compared to kids.
> 
> So, please suspend your disbelief?


	6. Soft Landing

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Aerith grinned at the intense look of concentration on Cloud’s face.  It was adorable!

The blond was currently sketching out plans for the first Slum Flower Playground.  Cloud’s worktable had been constructed out of the remains of the non-rotten pews from the newly gutted left aisle and some scrap metal he had picked up.  The worktable was off in one of the side-rooms, but Aerith could see Cloud just fine because there was not a door to that particular room.  It had been about a month since Cloud proposed the idea of making the Flower Playgrounds and they had actually done a fair bit of planning.  However, with only two of them it was taking a while.

Technically there were a few playgrounds already, but a lot of those suffered from lack of care or were in areas controlled by crime lords or the even more lawless smaller gangs.

Aerith had thought she might need to keep encouraging the blond- as she had been rather nervous about the impact his missing arm might present to their tentative plans- but she had found that Cloud was  _incredibly_  stubborn once he set his mind to something. 

It was rather endearing, that resolve.

However, there was such a thing as tunnel-vision and Aerith wanted her blond healthy, thank you very much!  “Cloud~!”  She chirped mischievously when she saw him take time out to stretch.  “Come here!”

“Hum?”  Cloud hummed as he made his way over to her, his toolbox and everything being left behind.

“Take a nap with me!”  Aerith demanded with an outrageous pout once she has bounced over and wrapped him up in a warm hug.

“Aer, I don’t think-“  Cloud began, stepping back from her quickly, his eyes wide with almost-panic.

“Look.”  Aerith chided him, wagging a finger at him with one hand and planting the other hand on her hip imperiously.  “If you  _really_  don’t want to I won’t force you to, but-“  Here Aerith dropped her playful demeanor and gave Cloud a very soulful sort of stare.  “-I want you to be able to rest, Cloud.  For all that I tease you, I know you’re still a grown man.  You have wants and desires just like everyone else, but if you’re ever gonna get comfortable enough to be able to face that part of yourself, you need to learn to  _trust yourself_  again.”  Aerith’s mouth curved into an even fonder, more tender smile.  “ _I_ trust you, Cloudy.  With my life.  But you’ve gotta learn how to trust Cloud again before you’ll really be able to accept that.”

Cloud’s face was a study of bitter anguish, the expressions telling a wretched tale of unreserved heartbreak.  The blond had turned his troubled gaze towards the flowers early on in her small speech and he seemed to sort of curl in on himself a bit, but he did not entirely withdraw from her.  Something he would have done even a month ago- so Aerith held her breath and  _prayed_.

Cloud’s hand clenched and unclenched a few times, his breathing grew ragged- though not fully panicked- and he kept his eyes fixed on the flowers.  Finally, after what seemed to Aerith a small eternity, he hesitantly looked up to meet her patient, steady gaze.  “I-“  Cloud swallowed harshly, his teeth clenching shut involuntarily as he clenched his hand so tightly his blunt nails nearly broke skin.  “I don’t think I can sleep beside anyone.”

“That’s ok-“  Aerith started kindly, keeping her disappointment far away from her voice and her body language.  She wouldn’t risk making Cloud feel bad just because she was secretly certain he made an  _excellent_  teddy bear and wanted to find out for certain!

“But.”  Cloud gave her a small half-grin at her playfully shocked expression at his audacity to cut her off.  “But I think I could lay down with you?  While you take a nap?”  The end was tilted with a questioning lilt and Aerith could nearly see Cloud’s train of thought derail.  “That sounds weird, does-“

“Yes!”  Aerith cheered excitedly, lunging forward and latching onto Cloud’s arm and dragging him towards the small pallet of blankets she had set up in one of the other empty side rooms with a door.

Truthfully it was a mini blanket fort made from things she had scavenged from a thrift shop and then taken home to cobble together.  The fabrics were all mismatched, but it was fairly cozy, if she did say so herself!  She had set up a small battery-powered fan, even, because she knew Cloud had trouble with the heat.  The window was stained glass and this time of day let in just enough light to be pleasant for napping instead of irritating.

“Plan ahead much?”  Cloud muttered wryly after Aerith cheerfully ordered him out of his boots and belts.

“A girl has to have her schemes.”  She replied cheerfully without an ounce of shame.  “Besides, we need plenty of rest if we are to keep our shenanigans operating at full capacity!”  Aerith- having shucked off her boots and her jacket, leaving her in the sleeveless dress she had chosen to wear that day- gleefully took a bit of a running jump and dove into her blanket fort.  “It’s even comfier than it looks.”  She sighed happily.

Cloud chuckled quietly- Aerith internally cheered victorious- and sat gingerly on the edge for all of a moment before Aerith huffed impatiently and pulled him down beside her.  “Pushy.”  Cloud huffed amusedly as Aerith rearranged their bodies to her liking and snuggled up close to her new teddy bear.

“You’re even snuggly-er and cuddlier than I thought you’d be.”  Aerith sighed happily as she half-sprawled out over Cloud.  A situation that would most likely be highly inappropriate and-or weird with just about any other man.  But with Cloud it was different.  Not because he was any less of a man, or unattractive- Aerith admired his spectacular muscles quite often, actually- but Cloud just felt  _safe_  to her.  Safe, secure, and fiercely, unquestionably loyal and she hoped that he understood that she felt just as attached to him.   Cloud was easily her best friend, partner-in-crime, her brother and her safe place to land all rolled into one.

Meeting Cloud was like meeting her  _soulmate_.  Like he was the other half of her that she had not known she was missing, but now that he was here she could never survive losing him.  To go back to not having Cloud with her was akin to letting a flower mature into a brilliant, vibrant blossom and then demanding it return to the seed from which it had sprouted from. 

It was so far beyond nonsensical it spiraled into outright cruelty, the mere thought of her existing in a world without her Cloud.  Cloud made her feel  _brave_.

As terrified as she was of her past catching up with her, Aerith felt that she could be brave enough to  _break the sky_  as long as Cloud was beside her.

Their connection was purely nonsexual, but it was still  _soul deep_.  The bond they shared incredibly complex yet so ludicrously simple it was nearly maddening in its magnificence.  She was Aerith.  He was Cloud.  Together they were Aerith and Cloud and Cloud and Aerith and  _nothing_  made sense anymore without Cloud being a part of it.

Aerith blinked slowly as she slipped off towards sleep.  “You’ll be here when I wake up, right?”

There was no pause.  “Of course.”

“Promise?”  She murmured sleepily as she snuggled a bit deeper into her mostly-human resting place, breathing deeply one last time- and wow did Cloud smell nice!- before she slipped off into sweet oblivion; comfortably cocooned in that sense of utter security that Cloud’s presence always seemed to immerse her within. 

Aerith was fully asleep by the time Cloud answered.  “…….I promise.”  Tears dripped onto her hair and he tightened his arm around her peacefully sleeping form as a way to reassure himself that  _she was here_  and this was real.  “ _I promise_.”

Yet they were more than empty words.  It was an oath, this swearing of undying allegiance to their bond.  It was a tentative step towards the light that he had believed had forsaken him, as punishment for surviving that catastrophe; that light’s absence his due for not joining his fallen squad mates in the Lifestream.  But with this verbal acknowledgement his bruised and battered psyche finally acquiesced to permanently accommodate this vibrant young woman.  To afford her a cherished place in his closely guarded heart.  Above all else, it was a valiant declaration of his resolve that he would  _never let her go_.

Cloud never quite relaxed enough to fall asleep, but by the time Aerith unexpectedly stretched and began to rouse, he was surprisingly refreshed.

“You’re still-“  _Yawn_.  “-here.”  Aerith mumbled in sleepy happiness as she slowly returned to full alertness a few hours later.

“I promised.”  Cloud informed her solemnly, just before he reached out and laid a tender, chaste kiss against her forehead.  “I always keep my promises.”  He murmured to her, a bit shyly, as he withdrew.  His natural reticence causing a small flush to creep up the back of his neck and sprawl easily across his pale features.

Aerith laughed delightedly and wrapped her Cloud in a thrilled, triumphant hug.  “I know, Cloudy.  _I know_.”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm gonna drown in FEELS over here.......


	7. Beauty in the Breaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note! there are some dark themes in Cloudy's thoughts! That's why I'm posting both chapters together! But please don't read the first section if you are going to get triggered by it!
> 
> The overall tone is a bit more upbeat, but Cloud has PTSD and this was a big sort of episode for him.

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Cloud fisted his hand into his hair and screamed through his teeth into the pillow he had propped up on his knees to muffle the sounds of his grief as his world, once again, shattered all around him.

 _You got complacent_.  His mind whispered sinisterly.  The words tearing through his scabbed over mental wounds mercilessly, leaving agony and listlessness in their wake.  _Again.  Isn’t that how you got your squad killed, Cloud?  Che.  Stupid boy.  Always stupid, always too late.  You never learn.  You’ll never walk in the light because you are unworthy.  The world doesn’t need a screw up.  Like.  You.  You really thought you could change?  Be better?  Be worth something?_

Fresh sobs tore their way out of Cloud’s throat and he drew his knees even closer, his spine bending unpleasantly as he tried to meld with the metal frame of his bed. 

 _You can’t even take comfort in the thought of dying, can you Cloud?_   Cloud’s inner nemesis- his bane- reminded him snidely, the words impacting with all the force of a Behemoth on the bleeding wounds of his psyche.  The graceless truth twisting the ache even deeper into Cloud as all of his failures flashed through his mind’s eye.    _After all, then you’d have to face them.  Face the squad mates you got killed._

(His father leaving.  His Ma’s suffering.  Tifa’s injury.  His failure to make SOLDIER.  His failure to do anything worthwhile while his squad mates protected him.

And-)

 _Face the Strifes that have come before you and be stripped of your very name for being such a fuck-up.  After all, don’t Strifes overcome?  You must have been something else if your own father left your Ma because he couldn’t stand to have such a screw up for a son- because your Ma is perfect.  Heh.  What a waste of space you are,  Cloud.  Maybe the Lifestream won’t even bother to take you when the time comes.  Could you blame them?  You’d bring down everyone else with your worthlessness invading their peaceful afterlife_.

And on and on and on.  His inner nemesis could go on for _days_ ; such was the legacy of failure known as Cloud Strife.

Cloud hiccupped wetly and reached for the comforting weight of Jonesy’s trench knives, wondering if the Lifestream- or nothingness, as would most likely be his fate- would really be all that bad.  Would he float about as a spirit, watching as everyone went on without him? 

(Could he stand watching how unnecessary his existence had been?  To see how much better the world was without him in it?)

Cloud’s eyes burned, his throat ached, and his body trembled as he lost himself in an endless loop of self-loathing.  As masochistic as it sounded, listening to his inner voice recite a constant litany of his familiar failures was much preferable to thinking about the present about-

 _No_.

(Earthy-toned brown hair, bright- nearly kaleidoscopic- green eyes, and an impish, yet compassionate smile.  Flowers.  Flowers in Midgar.  A church; a building with elegant columns, breathtaking stained glass windows- somehow intact, even after all these years- and little side rooms.  One of which held a makeshift table with mostly finished plans for a Flower Playground .  And yet another small side room that was filled with pillows, blankets, and a small fan.  A refuge, a place where Cloud could be the fierce predator he dreamt of being as he kept her safe while she dreamed; her brown hair tickled his nose most days, as she sprawled across him out across his chest.  Clinging to him as if he wasn’t broken, as if he wasn’t useless, as if he did not infect every good thing in his life with his very existence.)

_Nononononono- stop it stop it stopitstopit-_

The keening sound that emanated from his chest was a broken, pathetic whine that spoke of loss.  Of a soul-deep ache that would never mend; of a wound that would be left to fester and rot.  Heartbreak so complete that the scattered splinters would never be found, for they were too fine, too unimportant, too serrated to amount to anything more than a fine powder.  A powder so easily swept away by the indifferent winds of time.

Cloud felt as if he had been weeping for a millennia and yet the tears still flowed freely, wetting his pillow with the remains of broken dreams as he hacked and coughed and vomited all manner of bodily fluids into his bedside trashcan.  He was so far beyond exhausted he felt like he might actually die if he did not rest soon, but feared sleep nearly as much as he feared death at the moment.  Stuck in a terrible sort of limbo only there was no-

Fresh grief bubbled up to the surface in his chest and new tears- blistering, bitter, fury filled ones- spilled over from his swollen, stinging eyes as the knowledge that _she was gone_ sank in.

Oh, she was still physically there he knew, but she was gone all the same.

He should have _known better_.

Cloud distantly heard the door open, but he kept his face buried in the pillow on his knees, his last fit of gagging having finally subsided.  Footsteps he did not recognize padded closer, but Cloud was thoroughly defeated.

What was the worst they could do- kill him?

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Elmyra Gainsborough was a mother, first and foremost.   Aerith might not been the daughter of her body, but the little girl was certainly the child of Elmyra’s heart; of her very soul.

Elmyra did not care much for those SOLDIERs Aerith had befriended- the ones who had crashed through the roof of her church during the attack that AVALANCHE launched on Midgar about a year and half ago- but the men had defended Aerith when the AVALANCHE leaders had come after Elmyra’s baby girl.  So the mother grit her teeth and bore their sporadic presence.

Cloud Strife, however…..

In many ways, Cloud reminded Elmyra of her late husband.  Not in terms of physical appearance- because her husband had been a burly, tall brunet man with chocolate colored eyes and the sort of beard that suggested a life of rugged pursuits- but in soul.  Grant- like Cloud- held very few people close to him, but those that fell under his protection had held his utter devotion.

Grant and Elmyra were among the last generation of children who lived in what was once the beautiful Valley of Kings, before the Plate had been built and the land started to wither.  Elmyra could remember running thought the grassy hills as a child, picking pears off the trees and taking them back to her Mama to make preserves or pies out of them. 

Of course, she also remembered the rapid urbanization of the Valley and all the workers who flocked to it, including the parents of Grant’s best friend, Kosei Tanaka.  Kosei’s parents had fled Wutai due to their relationship being grounds for death- she was a noble woman and the boy had been born to a poor, disgraced family or something close to that- and had ended up in Midgar.  About a year or so before the Wutai War broke out into a full-scale war, assassins sent by Wutai finally caught up to the Tanaka family.

Grant had been the one to find his best friend.  Well, Kosei and his entire family, actually.  

The reason Grant had known the family’s past had caught up with them was how they were killed.  The parents had been beheaded, their heads mounted on short, decorative poles that were driven into the floor in front of the headless bodies.  The others- Kosei’s sister and her family, as well as Kosei and his pregnant wife- had been murdered as well, though they had been killed with a single strike to the spinal column; their knees tied together so their death throes did not leave them splayed out in an undignified position.  As far as Elmyra knew, the method used on the parents had been par for the course for someone who had committed a ‘grave’ offense, while the others had been killed as well due to being, ‘abominations’, meaning that their lives were an affront to the Emperor as they should not exist by Wutai’s laws.  Considering that Kosei’s parents had told them that Wutai believed that the Royal House was descended from the mighty Leviathan and Wutai’s laws were considered to be ‘the Will of the Emperor’, ergo to scorn the laws was to scorn the Emperor, and through him, the great guardian spirit Leviathan.

 Elmyra could sort of see the connecting line of thought in their actions, even if she, herself, found them reprehensible.

It was the deaths of the Tanaka family that had caused her Grant to join the Shinra Infantry, her beloved wanting to fight for the rights of families like the Tanakas to live in peace.  Grant hadn’t wanted to change Wutai so much as make the families who had escaped safe from retribution- because, really, who in Wutai had the Tanakas been harming?

Grant had come back a few times, with eyes haunted as Cloud’s were, and so Elmyra had learned about Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and all the other laundry lists of things that could affect soldiers in order to better support her husband.

It was the knowledge she had gleaned in order to help Grant that had helped her raise a little girl who had been born in a steel cage.  Elmyra was fiercely proud of her Aerith, and even more proud of how _kind_ her girl had come to be as she grew from that scared little girl into a beautiful young woman.

Truthfully, Cloud Strife was the best thing that had ever happened to Aerith and Elmyra was more than happy to drag the two of them home for supper whenever they lost track of time at the church.  While Elmyra would be extremely worried for Aerith under normal circumstance, Elmyra saw how much Cloud loved the bright young woman every time he looked at her.  Elmyra rather wistfully wished that a romantic relationship between the two would develop, but at least she could rest a little easier knowing that whomever wanted to attempt to romance Aerith would have to get through Cloud _first_.  The sneaky mother had even gotten a rather adorable picture of her Aerith snuggled up to the blond man and the fierce look Cloud had given the camera- even though Elmyra had made certain to knock and announce herself well beforehand- still made Elmyra smile every time she laid eyes on it.

The picture sat on her bedside table, so she saw it at least twice a day.

So when Aerith came home in tears, babbling nearly nonsensically about _Cloud_ , _SOLDIERs_ , _Turks_ and how _Cloud had shut her out_ , Elmyra decided it was time to be a bit more proactive.

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	8. Mama's Love

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“I know you’re going to be angry at me Cloud, but I’ve got someone here who wishes to speak with you.”  The voice of Elmyra Gainsborough was welcomed, if a bit unexpected.

After everything, he figured she would hunt him down and end him.

“Who would want to talk to me?”  Cloud asked bitterly, keeping his face firmly ensconced in his pillow and attempting to draw his knees up even furthers.

“Yeah, I’m going to put you on speakerphone.”  Elmyra spoke before a small beep was heard and then Cloud’s whole world tilted again.

“Cloudy, baby, is that really you?”  A sniffy voice full of that thick Nibel brogue he had grown up with asked through the tinny speaker of Elmyra’s borrowed PHS.  “Cloudy, talk to me, baby.  Please.”

“…..Ma?”  Cloud whispered in a brittle voice that was a hairsbreadth away from breaking, his usually tamed Nibel accent bleeding through loud and clear, even if his face was still smothered by the pillow he held in a white-knuckled grip.

“Oh!  _Cloudy_!”  His Ma breathed in wonderment.

 _I made her cry._ Cloud _knew_ there were _tears_ in his Ma’s voice and he was such an _awful son_ _and why was Aerith’s Mama doing this?_ Wasn’t losing Aerith enough for one day?  Now he had made his Ma _cry_ and she was going to- 

“Oh, Cloudy baby _, I’ve missed hearing your voice so much!_ ”  His Ma continued, causing Cloud’s internal litany of self-loathing to screech to an abrupt halt.   “I love you, you know that, right Cloudy?  No matter what, you’re my baby.  Your letters are nice, but it’s been so long since you’ve called me and I’ve got a whole _book_ of letters written up for you, since I haven’t had anywhere to send them- and oh baby, _I’ve missed you_!”

After a few moments of silence- save for the background noises of the Slums and some sniffling coming from the other side of the phone- his Ma began to speak again.  “Oh, baby.”  She said softly, affection and heartbreak fairly oozing from the words.  “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“I’m…..I’m sorry Ma.”  Cloud managed, not daring to raise his voice as he started to cry again.  “I’m so sorry.  I can’t do anything, can I?  I couldn’t make SOLDIER, I couldn’t even cut it in the Infantry- my squad mates always had to _save me_ \- and now- now, I’m _broken_ Ma.  I’ve only got half an arm and, and-“  Cloud’s voice trailed off as he began to cry harder, the tears he could hear his Ma shedding only making him want to curl up and die all over again.

Surely the Lifestream would be better than _this_.  This listening to his Ma cry as he broke her heart all over again-

“ _Cloud Strife_!”  Ma bellowed in a voice that had him lifting his head reflexively.

The pillow was taken out of his grasp with professional dexterity and the small, silver PHS was deposited abruptly into his lap.  “Ma?”  Cloud ventured rather dumbly, it had been ages since he had heard that tone of voice.

“Now you listen to me, little mister!”  In his mind he could see his Ma with her hands on her hips, giving him that narrowed-eyed cornflower blue stare that spelled _trouble_.  “Do ya mean to tell me that you’ve been avoiding me for nigh on four years because you lost part of an arm!”  Ma huffed into the phone, but her voice was gentler when she spoke again.  “Let me let you in on a little secret, Cloudy.  You take things far too personally for your own good.  Your Pa was like that, too.  Wanted to protect everythin’ and everyone and counted it as a personal failure whenever the goddess’ will stepped in his way.  But I’ve known you your whole life, baby, and you were tryin’ ta help me bring back buckets of water from the well when you were but a baby an’ the bucket was as big as you!  No, Cloudy, you listen to me and you listen well:  You’re a’gonna wipe those pretty eyes of yours and go with Elmyra back to her house and hug that girl of hers until ya both feel better.  Then you’re gonna go back to that church of yours and continue livin’ your life until I can get there and hug the stuffing outta you in person.”

“But, Ma-“  Cloud began to protest, his throat closing over at the thought of Ma seeing him like this.

“Cloudy.”  Ma sighed heavily, the tone of her voice both fond and utterly exasperated at the same time.  “Considern’ the state your head’s in it doesn’t surprise me that you don’t realize you’ve ben sendin’ me a king’s ransom every damn month for the past three years.  No, don’t argue with me.”  Ma ordered sternly as Cloud went to protest.  “I’ve got more than enough saved up to take a trip to see my baby.  My baby who’s been goin’ through-“  Ma broke off and took a moment to compose herself.  “No, Cloudy, you’ve done well by your Ma, but I wanna see my baby and so I’m gonna see my baby, you got that young man?”

“I-“  Cloud swallowed heavily, the fear of his Ma seeing him as the pathetic, broken mess he was warring violently with the desire to be able to lay his blond head on his Ma’s lap and for her miraculous ability to make things right again to happen.  “I miss you, too.”  He said eventually, not bothering to wipe the tears off his cheeks or bothering with the snot that was trailing across his upper lip.  “I miss you so much, Ma, but I was just so scared and I didn’t want to make things _worse_ and-“  Cloud took a few gulps of air and tried to smile bravely at the phone.  “ _Jag älskar dig mamma_.”

“ _Ja_.”  His Ma’s voice was warm and for the briefest of moments it transported Cloud back to Nibelheim, during the deep winter.  When Ma would make hot chocolate for them after a dinner of her delicious stew and they would curl up together under grandma’s blanket, near the fire, while Ma would whisper the legendary tales of Fenrir, Odin, and Freya.  “ _Jag älskar dig mitt barn.  Ständigt_.”

“Ok.”  Cloud whispered through his tears as his mother called out for Elmyra and the woman quickly snatched up the phone.  Cloud curled up into a ball and gently rocked himself back and forth.  “Ok.”

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Aerith had run out of tears, she was just sitting on the edge of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest as if that would plug that oozing wound that was Cloud’s departure.  Her breaths came out in pants as she steeled herself against the pain.

 _It was all her fault_!  And now Cloudy was gone and she didn’t think she would be able- or welcomed- to reel him back in this time.

The day had begun normally enough.  Aerith had gone to pass out flowers while Cloud did his morning odd jobs and they met at the church around lunch time so they could eat with her mother at the Gainsborough home.

It was on their way back to the church that she had suggested going to look around the site of their planned Park that everything had gone to _Ifrit’s fire_ and back.

Firstly, a Turk had shown up, and not one of the ones that Tseng usually sent to keep an eye on her- in the aftermath of her being found by Zack and Angeal and then those AVALANCHE members nearly managing to abduct her nearly immediately afterwards, which had called attention to the Turks, who had been scouring Midgar in pursuit of aforementioned AVALANCHE members- but a relatively new one, from the looks of things.  The Turk, obviously having been apprised of Hojo’s standing order to apprehend her and return her to Hojo’s labs, had attempted to do so.

 _Attempted_.  Past tense.   Because Cloud had gone from her cheerfully chatting companion to her protective apex predator in the span of a heartbeat.

The Turk had been relatively talented, but he was no match for Cloud who was very much not intimated by the threats the Turk hurled at him, nor the man’s jabs at Cloud’s disability. 

Cloud had managed to get behind the man and had accidentally snapped the man’s neck when the Turk had attempted to turn strike at a pressure point and Cloud had overcompensated.  Cloud hadn’t meant for the man to die- she could read that clearly in the blond’s face as he let the blue-suited body fall to the ground, one soul lighter- but he had not been panicking.

Until, of course, things got _worse_.

Of all the damn times for Zack and Angeal to be nearby, it would have been _right then_.

_“Get away from her!”  Zack roared as he came hurtling towards Cloud, the broadsword slipping easily from its sheath and into his palm._

_“Zack, no!”  Aerith had screamed, trying to put herself between Zack and Cloud._

_Cloud’s eyes had hazed over when he had looked up at Zack.  The blond’s flesh had gone ash-grey and he had begun to tremble where he stood.  Zack, being a SOLDIER, had easily dodged around Angeal- whom he had been trailing after, it was really no wonder Angeal had long ago nicknamed Zack his ‘puppy’- and had reared back to strike Cloud.  Angeal managed to slip in between them and halt Zack’s progress with the wide blade of his Buster Sword._

_“Puppy, calm down!”  Angeal had barked sharply, all authority and firmness._

_“But-“  Zack protested, even as he eased his blade away from the buster Sword and returned it to its sheath._

_“No buts.”  Angeal commanded firmly.  “We don’t know what happened here.”_

_“Cloud was trying to protect me!”  Aerith cried in distress as she watched Cloud retreat into himself more and more as his intense stare stayed avidly fixed on Zack._

_Zack blinked a few times and looked over at Cloud, tilting his head like an adorable puppy as he thought.  Then his expression lit up.  “Oh, hey!  Aren’t you that guy that survived that ambush AVALANCHE set up near Modeoheim?  I’m sure it was you!  Cissnei said you took out, like, three Ravens by yourself before that last one hit you with a Firaga.”  Zack grinned brightly.  “They awarded you, like, three medals for that stunt.  Said that you were the only reason the other two squads nearby di-“_

_“Puppy, stop!”  Angeal commanded, placing a hand on Zack’s shoulder and giving Cloud a careful once-over._

_Aerith moved forward with a shaky smile on her lips, Cloud had not been this closed off to her in a very long time.  “Cloud, these are my friends, Angeal and Zack.  They built the carts at the church, the ones I use to take my flowers to Market.”_

_“Oh.”  Cloud managed, the tone flat and devoid of expression as his breaths increased in tempo.  “I see.”_

_“Clou-“_

_“Miss Gainsborough.”  Tseng’s smooth, professional tone cut into the conversation easily.  “Can you explain what happened here?”_

_“Of course!”  Aerith replied calmly, clasping her hands to hide the fine trembling in them as she did so.  “Cloud and I were walking to our project site…”  Aerith quickly relayed the situation and judging by Tseng’s pinched expression the Turk had been in the wrong._

_“Former Sergeant Strife-“  Tseng began smoothly._

_And that had been too much for Cloud._

_“I wasn’t a fucking Sergeant!”  Cloud thundered ferociously- his voice caught somewhere between rage and grief- his bright blue eyes nearly feral as he glared heatedly at the Turk officer.  “I had only been a Corporal for six months, you are not eligible for promotion until eight months IR.  They promoted me when they kicked me out of the fucking Infantry because I was the only asshole who survived.  It was a pity rank at best and a slap in the face to Sergeant Trembly who threw himself over me at the last second.”  Cloud had clenched and unclenched his hand several times and started to get a wild, caged look in his eyes are he tracked everyone’s movements keenly.  “Not a fucking Sergeant, just a Gaia-dammed survivor when I should have been a casualty.  Like my squad.  My friends”  Cloud’s voice broke and tears gathered in his eyes as his breathing grew more agitated._

_“Strife, I assure you-“_

_“I killed the fucker because he was going to drag Aerith into hell, though.”  Cloud’s lips twisted and he took a few steps back as he gave a short, bitter laugh.  “I can see that it was entirely unnecessary.”_

_“Cloud!”  Aerith exclaimed, trying to think of a way to salvage the situation._

_“No, it’s fine, I get it.”  Cloud replied with that same wry smile, something dark and desperate smothering the remnants of warmth that Cloud always seemed to exude._

_Then something loud had resounded through the area, distracting her, and when she had looked back, Cloud was gone._

Aerith found that she _did_ have tears left to cry, as the thought of Cloud being gone resurfaced _.  I’m so sorry!  It’s all my fault!  I should have said something- anything- to keep them from saying all that!  I know how sensitive you are about your former comrades!  I’m so, so sorry Cloudy!_   She mentally screamed as she curled in on herself, facing away from the door when she heard her mother ascending the stairs.

The bed dipped and she prepared herself from her mother’s comfort, but then the scent of man, tears, and something undeniably-

“Cloud!”  She cried as she flipped over and latched onto the blond.  It didn’t matter why he was here, only that he had come back to her.  “Cloud, I’m so-“

“ _I’m sorry_.” 

They ended up saying it at the same time and they both looked at each other- Aerith, craning her neck at a nearly impossible angle and Cloud peering down at her through absolutely _wrecked_ eyes- and for a moment the world held its breath.

Then Cloud cracked one of those _awful_ sad-half-smiles and Aerith giggled and before she knew it she was wrapped up in a firm hug, her nose buried in Cloud’s neck despite the snot she was spewing, while Cloud had his drippy nose buried in her hair.   And everything wasn’t ok.   There were still about a thousand and one things that needed to be said, but for the moment just having Cloud with her was enough.

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	9. Baby Steps

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Cloud woke first, late in the following morning.  Aerith was safely cocooned in his arm, her dress from yesterday rumpled and littered with suspicious little crinkles or patches of crunchy…..stuff.  Cloud, himself, was still dressed in the clothes he had worn yesterday, and for a moment he was entirely disoriented before the memories came crashing down onto him with all the force of a hurricane.

Cloud jerked a little in surprise but quickly stilled when Aerith mumbled in her sleep.  It seemed as if all of Gaia held its breath for a moment as the girl’s brows contracted and her lips drew together in a pronounced pout; but eventually Aerith murmured something too garbled to make sense of and snuggled further into Cloud’s embrace before settling back into sleep.  Once he was certain she was resting peacefully once more, Cloud twisted just enough to be able to pet her hair with his hand.

Partly out of the genuine need for comfort, but mostly to distract himself from his pressing need for a toilet, closely followed by the intense desire to drink an ocean’s worth of water as soon as possible.

Cloud wasn’t sure how long he sat there, petting Aerith’s hair and trying to keep himself distracted from his body’s needs and the events of the day before- or at least, Cloud hoped it was only the day before- but eventually Aerith began to wake.

And then she sleepily elbowed him in the lower abdomen.

“Careful Aer, I have to take a leak so badly I might explode.”  Cloud gasped as he wriggled away from her.  When she elbowed him again, Cloud yelped.  “Aerith, _I swear to Gaia_ I will wet the bed like a baby if you don’t stop that!”

Aerith pulled back, sitting up onto her knees, and blinked slowly before rubbing her eyes with her fists.  “Cloudy?”  She murmured sleepily for a moment before her eyes snapped open and she squawked in alarm, hastily untangling herself from the blankets- she nearly strangled herself in her haste- and bolted for the door.  “Sorry Cloudy, but I’ve _really_ gotta go!”

Cloud was mildly confused until he heard the door next door slam shut and he realized that Aerith had just stolen the bathroom from him.

“Brat!”  He called after her.

“You love me anyways!”  She called back cheerfully, though there was a hesitancy that he didn’t like in her voice.

 _Time to fix that_.  “Yeah, yeah I do.”  Cloud paused for a moment then added wryly.  “As long as you hurry it up and don’t spend days in there!”

“Ha~!”  Aerith called back, all good cheer and effusive warmth, and Cloud relaxed a little as he waited for her to finish.

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Cloud wiped his hand on a rag and looked over his newest project with a keen eye.

After his ‘episode’- Aerith’s words, not his- about a week ago Cloud had needed a project to work on to center himself before he could really get back into the swing of things regarding the flower playgrounds.  Towards that end he and Aerith had decided to repurpose the shack across from the church to be Cloud’s workshop-slash-project hub.  The word ‘shack’ was truly the only word Cloud or Aerith could think to describe the rusty building made out of tin and held together by nothing less than the grace of the goddess.

There had been a few monsters they had needed to clear out, naturally.   Cloud actually finished off the first monster- a Hedgehog Pie- when he tripped over some debris and knocked one of the haphazard ceiling plates loose.  The loose metal had unexpectedly dropped down and severed the menaces’ head. 

After that, Aerith had been entirely entertained by the seemingly never-ending flow of Whole Eaters.  It seemed no matter how many of the things she and Cloud took out; three more were waiting to take their place!

 _“It’s like they didn’t have anything better to do than breed.”  She huffed in amusement as she dexterously twirled her staff to fling off some of the monster remains and charged the Lightning Materia Cloud had bought for her during their ‘day after’ shopping spree_.

_“Less talking, more frying please.”  Cloud grunted as he ducked around another pair, taking out the first with a deft twist of one of Jonesy’s trench knives and scoring a deep blow against the newly dead monster’s partner._

_“Fire in the hole!”  Aerith bellowed cheerfully, causing Cloud to yelp and duck just as Aerith’s spell washed over the area, taking out three of the things, including the one Cloud had wounded._

_“A little more warning next time!”  Cloud called back to his friend as he smelled the scent of burning hair.  “And if you make me bald I will never forgive you!”_

_“Ah, have a little faith Cloudy!”  Aerith rejoined, still entirely cheerful as she whacked yet another monster with her staff.  “I’d still love you!  Besides-“  Aerith paused as she nimbly hopped over some debris before she returned to gleefully bashing in monster skulls.  “-I’d buy you a wig made out of chocobo feathers!  No one would ever know the difference!”_

_Cloud groaned.  Loudly.  “You’re a menace, Aer.”  He informed her as he paused at a pile of scrap metal, debating the wisdom of just kicking it all over._

_“I know, isn’t it great?”_

It had taken them most of the morning- it was Cloud’s odd job off day- but by the time the nightlife lights flickered on they were confident that they had successfully cleared out all the unwanted tenants of their ‘new’ building.  Most of the afternoon had been spent organizing piles of the scrap metal and other miscellaneous things.  A task that would have taken a fair bit longer had Cloud not given into Aerith’s nagging and hired a few of the Slum men she knew from her trips to Wall Market to assist.

_“What are you going to do with all of this month’s ‘Ma money’, Cloudy?”  Aerith asked, hands on her hips and a stubborn frown on her lips.  “You gonna give it to her in person?  Or send it all to her when she goes back to Nibelheim?  Your Ma’s coming Cloudy and I’ll tell on you if you try to do all of this heavy lifting by your stubborn self!”_

_Seeing all they accomplished at the end of the eight hours that he had hired the men for, Cloud could admit- to himself- that Aerith might have a point.  There really was not any shame in hiring some help, even if it chafed on his pride a bit because he felt like he should not have to do such things and wouldn’t have to, if not for his own foolhardiness._

_Aerith must have caught on to his mental grumblings because she laughed and gave him a hug.  A smug hug._

_Cloud blew a raspberry against her cheek in retaliation.  The fact that it made her squeak and scrub his spit off her cheek was merely a bonus.  He felt very vindicated._

_Well, until Aerith pounced on his back and insisted he carry her back to her house piggy-back style._

A few more days of work- and a few more shifts of help, as much as such a thing still made Cloud grit his teeth- and the roof was reasonably repaired.  Repaired as in stable enough to walk on.  Which naturally meant that Aerith was plotting out flower beds.

Cloud had been rather mystified to discover that his morning odd jobs netted him more money than he spent on labor in the afternoons.  He truly had not realized just how much gil he had actually been earning.

_Aerith giggled at his dumbfounded expression._

_“It’s really not that surprising Cloudy.”  She informed him once she managed to wrestle her giggles under control.  They were in the church, enjoying the tea that Elmyra had sent with them when they had left Aerith’s house after lunch- Cloud and Aerith were attempting to spend at least lunch with the irreplaceable Mrs. Gainsborough- when Cloud had blurted out his newest revelation to his best friend.  “I mean, most of the things that people hire you to do would be really costly for them otherwise.  You have a knack for fixing seemingly unfixable things and it shows.”_

_“Yeah, but I’m just doing what Ma taught me.”  Cloud grumbled.  “When something broke we had to make it work- especially in the dead of winter.  How is that any different from living in the Slums?”_

_“The difference in the Slums is that people know they can just buy something different.”  Aerith pointed out as she dusted herself off and moved towards her newest patch of flowers.  Nearly the entire left side of the church was blooming by now as Aerith painstakingly cultivated it in small sections.  “You and your Ma didn’t have that cushion and it shows in how you troubleshoot and don’t give up easily.  Of course, I think you have a bit of a natural talent for such things, as even the more flexible people around here call on your expertise.”_

_“It’s still weird.”  Cloud had mumbled as he rose, dusted himself off, and headed across the street._

_Aerith just giggled at her swaying flowers.  She almost swore they were giggling, too._

Cloud shuffled over to one of the neat piles of scrap and began to search through it for what he needed.  The plans on the table were for a fan, as the air in the sunlight shaft areas where the playground was supposed to be built was heavy enough to smother a Nibel dragon, let alone a child.  Or flowers, for that matter, no matter how amazing Aerith was. 

There was also the fact that hot air rose above cool air to consider, but Cloud knew from his Shinra days that the Plate was designed in such a way that it actually forced the warmer air back down.  That was why the upper staircases and the rooftops were actually cooler than the Slum streets.  The physics of the phenomena made Cloud’s head hurt- and he was certain that if such a thing occurred anywhere else there would be abnormal weather occurrences- but the fact was the air of the Slums was heavy.  To cope Cloud planned to repurpose what was once a home’s fireplace- the house had long since been looted and trashed- and pull air through it via a series of fans.

Cloud hoped his plan worked.

The thought was not to really cool the air, but to make it move.  Cloud firmly believed that if the air of the Slums could just _move_ enough it would grow exponentially cooler simply by no longer being stagnate.   The curve and pitch of the Plate forced the hottest of the air down the latticework of rigid air ducts and returned the majority of the hot, heavy air to the lower area of the Slums.  An issue exacerbated by the heat of the Mako Reactors.  Admittedly the vents for the Reactors sent a good chunk of their incidental heat through a system of ducts that vented out into the Wastes.  Cloud firmly believed, though, that if he could just get enough air _moving_ then the air at the street-level would grow cooler, and therefore _denser_.  Enough cool air gathering at the bottom and the air ducts would be unable to force the hot air the incorrect direction and the Slums would benefit.

Part of the reason Cloud knew that much was because one of his former squad mates- Sergeant Trembly, actually- had not only spent a good eight years in the Engineering Corps, but the man had been one of the engineers that had worked on the Plate’s design.  Cloud knew that the Slums were _supposed_ to have vents that brought in fresh air near the street level but those vents had never even been properly started on due to budget crunching.  However, the latticework of ducts that would keep the Plate from being weakened by constant exposure of heat from both sides- the Slums hosting the heat-intensive parts of the Mako Reactors and the Upper Plate having the elements to contend with- had been installed during the first part of the construction.

So Cloud knew that the Plate would be fine.

Cloud just hoped he could get Trembly’s self-sustaining magnet motor to work properly.  Trembly had built several prototypes and Cloud had helped with the last couple of them, so he knew what he needed he just was not entirely sure that he could built the damn thing without Trembly standing over his shoulder.  Because the last motor that they had made had worked just fine, no issues with overheating or surging or anything.  Cloud was pretty sure it had been sent to Trembly’s wife with the rest of his Sergeant’s things.  But Cloud wanted to make Trembly’s invention _work_ , not just for his project, but because Trembly had always felt shame for his part in the designing of the Plate. 

Cloud felt that his Sergeant would rest a little easier in the Lifestream knowing that Cloud had managed to alleviate some of the Slum denizens’ suffering with the motor that the man had designed.

To make all of his grand plans happen, though, Cloud needed to rig up a torch or a smithy or both.

“Cloud!”    A familiar and much missed voice called from the doorway, causing the blond to drop the metal he was holding and whirl around in surprise. 

“M-Ma?”

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might change a few things about the air conduction system later. The idea is that Shinra is full of jerks who would rather slowly suffocate the people of the Slums than fork over the money to build proper ducting. 
> 
> And the Plate has to have some sort of air conduction system otherwise it would be exposed to the elements and house a city on one side and be slowly weakening from (essentially) heavy smog on the other. 
> 
> I would be so much more confident, but I gave my lovely logic-checker a plot bunny, soooooo.......


	10. Storm Warning

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Claudia Strife, in all of her blonde haired, blue eyed glory, stood in the doorway of his shop.  Her dress was the same as he remembered- down to the rugged brown boots- and her smile was still bright enough to light up a whole room.  “Well are you gonna just stand there or are you gonna come give your Ma a hug?”  She demanded with a smile, hands planted on her hips.  One of the teasing ones that caused her dimples to show and made the happy crinkles by her eyes crease just enough to make her eyes seem even brighter.

“Ma.”  Cloud repeated and the next thing he knew he had stumbled across the room and into her arms.  “ _Ma_.”  He choked out as he laid his face in the curve of her neck and breathed in all the scents that reminded him of _safety, warmth_ , and _home_.  Even under the smell of sweat and travel he could discern the scents that had always surrounded him as a child and they were a welcome balm to his wounded soul.

“Look at you.”  Claudia sniffled as she hugged her son tightly; still afraid- after nearly a week of traveling- that she was going to wake up and find that getting that phone call from Elmyra Gainsborough about her wayward son had been nothing more than a dream.  Yet here he was, all grown and handsome, in her arms.  He had gotten taller, too!  When he had left Nibelheim he had been just a smidge taller than her, but now he was nearly a whole head taller!  She ran her hands over him, murmuring nonsense as he cried.  “All grown up and handsome.  And still not too proud to hug your Ma.”

Then she gave up and got all teary, too.  Because after nearly a _damn decade_ her baby was back in her arms.

Eventually Cloud pulled back, his face still wet with tears.  The smile on his face was bright enough to compete with the sun, though, and there was an excited warmth in his eyes that was shy, but contented.  “Never.”  He told his Ma with a sweet smile, gently brushing the tears away from her cheeks with his good hand.

Claudia smiled at her son- her _baby_ , all grown and handsome- and laughed as she tugged him close for another hug.  “Good.”  She informed him primly, in the same tone of voice she used to use before diving into a new project.  “Now, I’ve got someone else here who’s been dying to see you.”  And with that, Claudia stepped out of the way, sidled up to Cloud’s left side and slipped an arm around her son’s waist; still not quite ready to let him go just yet.

Bemused Cloud watched him Ma and so he was completely taken aback by the punch to his good shoulder.  Cloud stumbled a little and glanced up and then his heart stuttered in his chest and he forgot how to breathe.

“You _idiot_!”  Tifa Lockhart bellowed, tears in her pretty red-brown eyes.  “You didn’t answer any of my letters just because you didn’t make SOLDIER?”  Tifa raised her fists threateningly, the tears slipping out of her eyes as she tossed her pretty dark hair over her shoulder.  “And then I couldn’t even write you anymore!  The hell, Cloud!  I thought we were friends!”  Tifa dropped her hands and stamped her foot in frustration.

“I-I-“  Cloud swallowed thickly, but he was buoyed by his Ma’s presence and Aerith’s lingering behind Tifa, a small smile on her face.  “I-I couldn’t be your hero…..”  He trailed off shamefully, ducking his head low and waiting for the next hit. 

He deserved it; he had broken his promise after all.

There was a heavy sigh and then warm arms wrapped around him- careful of his Ma’s grip- and Tifa’s lips were next to his ear.  “I dunno.  Seems like it takes a hell of a hero to keep fighting in a place like this.”  Tifa pressed a kiss to his hair, right at his temple as he rested his head against her collarbone.  “You know that Zack guy told us-“

“Don’t”  Cloud rasped, his head jerking up in alarm, his eyes slightly wild.

“Listen, Cloudy.”  Aerith trotted forward and came to stand next to Tifa, her eyes kind but firm.  “Just listen and then we’ll drop it, ok?”

Cloud took a few deep breaths and looked between the three women.  After a few minutes of calm quiet he sighed.  “Ok.”  He murmured as his shoulders slumped in defeat.  “Let’s hear it.”

“Well.”  Tifa said in a light tone of voice, having cleaned her face with some tissues Aerith had offered both Nibelheim women.  “He felt really bad about something-“

“That day with the Turks.”  Aerith supplied promptly.

“-and so he offered his PHS to Mrs. Gainsborough to call Nibelheim- his mentor looked up the number for the Inn- and I happened to be there that morning, so I ran and got your Ma.”

“I was quite surprised.”  Claudia interjected cheerfully, her hand running soothing strokes down Cloud’s taut back.

“Anyways, that’s how Mrs. Gainsborough was able to call.  Then, not two days later, he and his mentor came out and helped us load up and lock everything down so we could get here.  They drove military trucks up from Rocket Town and then took us there.  Got us on a Shinra helicopter, fastest way over the Midlands, and then onto a Shinra supply ship.  That’s how we made here so quickly.”  Tifa’s eyes were warm, kind in a way that suggested maturity and lessons learned as she reached out and laid a hand over his good shoulder.  “They also told us that you had a lot of issues with you being the only survivor of an ambush.”  Tifa’s hand tightened a little as Cloud’s eyes started to glaze over.

Cloud wanted to panic, wanted to fall into the oblivion it provided but he could not.  Not with Ma, Tifa, and Aerith all here with him.  His eyes were wide, his breathing ragged, but he tried to focus on Tifa’s words.

Tifa smiled warmly at him.  Proudly.  “Did you know that your squad saved the lives of at least thirty other troops?  Including a full squad of SOLDIERs?”  Tifa asked gently, squeezing his shoulder a little tighter when Cloud’s eyes started to haze over.  “We’re not here to tell you how to feel about that Cloud, but Zack- well, he’s just excitable.”

“That young man told us that he admired you.  That you got up and kept fighting even when everything went to hell around you.”  Claudia interjected with a heartfelt smile.  “I know you probably don’t feel like you did anything heroic- your Pa always said that the only heroes in a war are the ones who never make it home- but I want you to think about it from Zack’s point of view for a while and remember that he helped us get here, ok?”  Claudia tipped up onto her toes and kissed her son’s cheek gently.  “Now.”  She said in a cheery voice.  “Let’s go see these flowers that little miss Aerith has magicked up!”

Aerith cheered and linked her arm with Tifa, who laughed and skipped alongside the other young woman as Aerith tugged them towards the church.  “Cloudy’s gonna help me infect the _whole city_ with flowers!”  The young woman informed their guests happily, throwing open the doors to her church grandly.

Cloud, still shell-shocked from seeing his Ma, seeing Tifa, and being told that the _loud idiot_ who had tried to attack him helped both of them get here, just followed along rather sedately.  The blond let Aerith’s chatter- joined intermittently by the other women- wash over him as his Ma held onto his waist and marveled over Aerith’s flowers.

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“What?!”  Cloud asked incredulously when the topic of living arrangements while his Ma and Tifa were in Midgar came up that evening, during dinner at the Gainsborough home.  “At least a _whole year_?!  What about the house?”

“Baby, I haven’t seen you since you left Nibelheim the spring after you turned thirteen.”  Claudia explained patiently, a fond smile on her lips as she tugged on his blond bangs. 

“But-“  Cloud tried to protest feebly, the thought of his Ma being stuck in the Slums for a whole year making him nearly sick to his stomach.

“And you can’t whine, little mister.”  She warned him in a tone he knew better than to contradict.  “Madam Garber was more than happy to look after the house for me while I’m gone.  She’s been having trouble with her knees for nigh on five years now and being closer to town has helped her.”  Claudia fixed her son with a look.  “You’d have known that I had taken her on as a tenant two years ago this past spring if you woulda had an address for me to send letters to.”

Aerith and Tifa- the _traitors_ \- were giggling into their bites of dinner while Elmyra merely radiated a smugly satisfied ‘I-told-you’-so air.

“But.”  Cloud snapped his lips shut and clicked his teeth together when he saw his Ma’s left eyebrow rise warningly.  “Yes, Ma.”

Claudia nodded approvingly and turned to Elmyra.  “Thank you so much for hosting us until we can get things worked out!”

“My pleasure.”

 _I bet it is._   Cloud sulked quietly as his Ma and Elmyra exchanged a glance he couldn’t decipher, but just _knew_ was going to bring him trouble.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, feel free to journey over to Tumblr and check out the AMAZING fanart(s) waifujuju did for this story!
> 
> Both of them are on my blog or you could just check out hers- whichever way you should go appreciate the visual awesomeness~!


	11. Air

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Aerith and Tifa laughed as they watched the two blond(e) Strifes quibble over details to the proposed air circulation plan. 

“I’m telling ya Cloudy, you’ll wanna go bigger than that.”  Claudia advised her son, tapping her pencil on the edge of the piece of cardboard they were using to draw up plans on.  “And there are stairwells that go up near enough to the side-vents that bring this accursed stagnant air back down here.  Put in a few v-junctions and the ducts will only be half as effective.  Combine that with a larger-scale air circulation system and this whole sector will drop in temperature and humidity.”

“Especially when we get the plants installed.”  Tifa pointed out, leaning casually against Aerith, who was _still_ giggling.

“They’re doing so well!”  Aerith interjected brightly, her green eyes alight with happiness at the thought of all the seeds that Claudia had thought to bring for her.  “And with some of the demolition we’ll be doing to make the playground, we should have plenty of dirt!  And there’s an underground stream not too far from the playground, so we should be able to set up a rather easy watering system.”

“The three of you.”  Cloud managed to say in a relatively level voice.  “Should have never met.”  Then he cracked a grin at his Ma- all boyish mischief and sly plotting- and said, “You wanna go big?  Let’s go _big_.”

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In the end they are no longer planning on what amounted to an oversized house-fan.

Good thing that Cloud now had torches and a decent smithy.  His Ma was rather scary in her brilliance sometimes, but this was the woman who raised him, so what’s a man to do?

Aerith and Tifa had grown worryingly close.  Worryingly in that between a combination of Aerith’s charm and Tifa’s right hook they had somehow managed to unseat the local petty crime boss.  Not the main crime boss of the Sector Five Slums, but the one who ran the outer edges, mostly racketeering and other related crimes.  Tifa had then repurposed the group and now was effectively their leader.

By ‘Tifa was effectively their leader’ Cloud meant that somehow _he_ was in charge of them and Tifa gleefully bashed any dissidents in the gut or the head, depending on how _friendly_ she was feeling that day.

Cloud had been surprised by how many of the men were former Shinra employees- _former Shinra Infantry_ \- and had felt somewhat responsible for them after learning that.  These were just people who were in a similar situation to him, only they had not had Claudia Strife and her ‘if there’s a will, there’s a way’ attitude towards things as their Ma.  It made Cloud even more grateful to his Ma and he swore that he would help these broken people find their feet.  It was the least he could do, after all.  Cloud was lucky- he had Ma and Aerith and Tifa and Mrs. Gainsborough- but these people had _nothing_. Forced to work like dogs; doing dirty jobs for scraps.

The very thought of one of his squad mates having ended up like this incensed Cloud.  It made him angry and defiant in the same breath and so he shoved aside his own doubts, his own misgivings and _history of abject failure-_ because he had Ma, Aerith, Tifa, and Mrs. Gainsborough to lean on and each and every one of his cherished, fierce women were _flawless_ \- to make a difference. 

Thus the locals were divided up into groups and sent off to work.

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Given that Claudia Strife’s life motto was ‘waste not, want not’, piles were beginning to form near Cloud’s shop as the crews painstakingly worked through rubble.  It was a bit slow going as each group needed a capable fighter, but they were slowly learning how to fight with whatever they had.  Claudia proudly told Cloud that it was _his_ example that motivated a lot of them.

Cloud didn’t see it, but whatever made Ma happy.

There were women who had been doing a lot of dirty work or drudge work that Claudia and Elmyra- _“Really, Cloud, Elmyra is fine.”_ \- repurposed.  The elder women did not push these other females into anything, but they were more than willing to teach them something new.  If the women liked being ‘companions’ as Claudia had delicately termed them, then Claudia and Elmyra did their best to teach them about safety.  They even had plans for an apartment complex that just needed a little care that the girls would be able to use as a safe alternative to going with a client to an unknown location.

The petty crime syndicate had had quite a bit of capital- that is their boss had been a smarmy, slimy bastard who paid his people very little- and Cloud had made sure to invest that money back into the people.  He still did his odd jobs six mornings a week and repeatedly told his new employees that he would feel wrong taking money he hadn’t earned.

After what Tifa and Aerith had caught the former boss doing- well, it was not as if the man could use the gil in the Lifestream.  It had been a bit strange for Cloud to hold Tifa through the nights immediately following that experience, but he had been awed by the depth of Tifa’s convictions.

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Cloud held firm in his opinion that Tifa and Aerith should ever be allowed out and about alone _ever again_.  The girls just laughed at him and used him as a pillow during naptime.  Tifa curled up next to one side while Aerith sprawled out over him as usual.  Except nowadays he had both dark hair and earthy brown hair tickling his nose whenever the girls shifted around in their sleep.

It had felt a little strange to invite Tifa at first, but Cloud realized that his childhood crush on her had dissipated.  No longer merely the pretty girl he wanted to impress more than anything, Tifa quickly grew into a close friend.  A lot of that most likely had to do with how quickly Aerith had taken to her, but Cloud loved his ladies fiercely- just not in the way he would have imagined as a child.

When he had talked to his Ma- he might have been twenty-one but he had been a stuttering mess- about his revelation about being exclusively romantically attracted to males and merely aesthetically attracted to females, the woman had just given him a knowing smile and hugged him.

The moment had been interrupted when Elmyra had called out through the window, “By the _goddess_ Cloud, you couldn’t have waited another week?!”

“Never bet against a Strife!”  His Ma had called back with a gleeful grin.

Cloud had buried his face in his hand and had not bothered to ask.

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The new design of the air circulation system made use of some rusted out shipping containers- after they had been cleared of monsters, scrubbed up, sealed, cut to be two-containers wide with no inner divider before being welded together, and then stacked end-to-end and welded secure- were raised along the inner wall of the Sector Five Slums by a series of pulleys.  They doubled up all along the rocky edge of the furthest inner wall of the Sector Five Slums, running up to just a few hundred feet short of the opening to the Upper Plate. 

The next part had actually been the most annoying for Cloud.  He took the extra metal from the containers and made fan blades.  It took some trial and error, but eventually learned how to make the blasted things the way he wanted.  His smithy was satisfactory but trying to make fan blades for a _gigantic tower_ was _not_ what it had been designed with in mind.  However, Cloud was nothing but stubborn and he had persevered.

Well, that and a foul-mouthed man named Cid Highwind had come bursting in one afternoon.

“What the fuck are ya planning on doing with those, blondie?”  The man- tall with short blond, bright yellow hair and a cigarette dangling from his lips had bellowed.

“Making a fan that helps moves some of this shitty fuckin’ air around.”  Cloud had responded reflexively, reminded sharply of Jonesy’s lover.  “What’s it to you?”

“Well, ya ain’t gonna get much bang for yer buck if ya don’t add some tilt to those fuckin’ blades.”  The blond had stubbed out the cigarette grabbed a nearby apron and jumped in beside Cloud.  “Name’s Cid, kid.  Let me teach you a fuckin’ thing or two about aero-fuckin-dynamics.”

Cloud had come to know that Cid had been looking for work in Midgar since Shinra had unexpectedly shut down their Space Division.  He had a wife back home in Rocket Town, but without the Space Program work was hard to come by out there.  Though, Cid had admitted one evening while they sipped on some spiked tea Tifa and Aerith had brought them, work wasn’t exactly easy to come by in Midgar either.  Cid had actually been trying to get into contact with Cloud for almost a year, wanting to see if they could team up and run a shop together as Cloud was Cid’s only major contender as a handyman.

Despite Cloud’s extreme hesitance to drag anyone else into his life Cid was surprisingly stubborn and annoyingly useful.

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	12. Movement

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However, with everything and everyone at his disposal, two months was all it took for the tower to be built.  _Two months to build the tower just so I can build a fricking playground._ Cloud groaned to himself the morning everything was supposed to power up.  _Why did I think this was a good idea?_

Thus early morning arrived and Cloud stood near the base of the tower praying everything worked.  They had tested each set of fans that were responsible for pulling down air from the surface individually, but this would be the first time they turned everything on all together.

Cloud really hoped everything worked.  He had planned for everything he could think of.  Cloud planned for motor fatigue and set the things on timed relays so the motors would have time to cool off.  Each set of fans ran a bit faster so that by the end the air came out fairly compressed and, theoretically, cooler.  The top of the tower was triple layered- the first thirty feet in ten foot increments not including the top-  with grates that would hopefully keep any humans, animals or monsters out of the death trap.  The bottom was the same.  Cloud had checked, double checked, then triple checked all the seams and then done the same with the brackets that held the tower in place.  Even though Midgar had not seen a significant amount rain in over a _decade_ Cloud had even planned for heavy rains, ensuring that all the wiring was thoroughly insulated and-

“Calm the fuck down Cloud, it’ll be fine.”  Cid muttered as the elder man walked up, his usual scarf wrapped around his neck.  The man, predictably, lit up a cigarette.  “They should be going any minute, right?”

“Oh-six-hundred.”  Cloud murmured as Tifa and Aerith came bouncing into view.

“Oh, good, we’re not late!”  Aerith cheered excitedly, throwing her arms around Cloud and giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, Tifa laughing at Cloud’s look of longsuffering.

“Well-“  Cloud began only to be cut off by the hum of machinery whirring to life.  His heart in his throat Cloud watched as the indicator lights for the first motor housing went yellow and then green before the next section began to whirr to life and the process repeated itself.  By the time the sixth set went green Aerith had needed to poke Cloud in the ribs so he would remember to breathe.

Then air began to flow out of the tapered bottom of the tower and it felt so _good_.

“Hot damn!”  Cid whooped excitedly, throwing a friendly arm around the grinning Tifa’s shoulders.  “Lookit that!  It’s workin’!”

Aerith gave Cloud another sloppy kiss on the cheek and Cloud broke out into a wide, pleased grin as the airflow picked up and the heaviness that was always present in the air of the Slums lightened.  It would take days for the true impact of their system to really be seen, naturally, but even now the new introduction of slightly cooled air brought a reprieve from the relentless oppressive aura that the inhabitants of the Slums had long grown used to.

After a few minutes of celebration- and one heart-stopping moment when Cloud thought that the second-to-last housing wasn’t going to light up- Aerith turned and grinned brightly at the two men.  “Now we just need to plant some flowers here!”

Both men groaned tiredly but they were grinning at her.  Tifa huffed and smacked them both ‘round the back of the head.  “C’mon guys, get a move on!  Our resident Flower Fairy demands it!”

Cloud squawked in embarrassed outrage and flushed crimson.  “ _Aerith_!”

“Sorry, not sorry, Cloudy!”  His brown haired best friend giggled unrepentantly as she linked arms with Tifa and took off in the direction of the church.

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The days blurred together, but in a good way.

The playground came together rather quickly, all things considered.  The longest portion of the playground’s construction was the enclosed fence they had installed around what would be Aerith’s garden area.  It wasn’t that they were planning on keeping all the vegetables she grew in that patch to themselves, but rather they did not want the spot to be trampled by looters.  The boxes on top of the equipment covers- to keep the pale children from getting too much sun- were left open as they all held flowers.

Water from a nearby underground stream was being used to water the flowers via a rigged sprinkler system.  The water source had been left untapped by the Slums because it doubled back after about a hundred feet and went even deeper into the rock.  It had therefore been deemed not ‘cost efficient’ enough to be utilized, so the hole had been covered be a sheet of metal and a sign had been posted.  Prior to the air tower the area had been far too stuffy for anyone to deem it worth the hassle. 

Cloud and Cid had managed to not only get a decent pump going, but one of the men who worked for Cloud had been in part of the squad that handled getting the troops in Wutai fresh, clean water to use.  With his knowledge and Cloud and Cid’s knack for designing and building things the water source also boasted a crude but effective purification system.

The day the workers deemed the playground safe had been full of laughter.  Kids from all over came to play and the caretakers- not all of the children possessed such a person, sadly- enjoyed sitting in the shade near the air tower.

Despite Cloud’s pessimism the air tower worked flawlessly.  As an added bonus no one from Shinra had shown up to tear it down, either.  As the days passed the ambient temperature of the general area steadily declined.  When combined with the scent of Aerith’s carefully tended flowers, the whole are began to take on a pleasant aroma as well.

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“You’re both _slave drivers_.”  Cloud muttered with a small grin as he carefully checked the holes he had made in the formerly discarded trash plastic bucket.

“You love it, Cloudy~!”  Aerith sang brightly, brushing a sloppy kiss on the blond’s cheek as she moved past him to rejoin Tifa by the countless containers of seedlings.  The church’s stage steps were littered with re-appropriated containers filled with water or soil for the seeds to mature inside.

“Sure.”  Cloud agreed easily, a smirk settling to rest on his lips as he returned to his task.  “But you two have nearly taken up the entire sixteenth district with your flower-power.”

“All the more reason to celebrate!”  Aerith chirped cheerfully as she bounced back over towards Cloud, an amused Tifa trailing in her wake.  “We’re that much closer to corrupting all of Midgar with flowers!”  Aerith paused and blinked up at Cloud’s quirked eyebrow innocently.  “Well, flowers and plants.  Maybe even a few trees.”  She amended with a pout.

“We had to put in a guard rotation for the playground area.”  Tifa mentioned as she settled down across from Aerith and Cloud, laying out her many containers in front of the elder girl with the ease of long practice.  “The gardens are doing well, though.  Lettuce, tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, okra, eggplant-“

“Now you’re just making me hungry.”  Cloud grumbled as he passed the finished repurposed container to the impatient Aerith and reached for another former-piece-of-trash-come-garden-implement. 

“It’s so exciting!”  Aerith bounced a little as she began to expertly fill the rigged container with soil and seedlings.  “In the last four months we’ve filled almost _all_ of the sunlight-touched area near the playground with flowers or plants.  The rigged containers mean we can hang strings of containers to triple our growing space too!  And they’re doing _so well_!  I mean, I’ve never had trouble growing things here at the church, but I never thought-“  Aerith trailed off as she looked up and caught her friends’ amused expressions.

“We know, Aer.”  Tifa informed the outrageously pouting Aerith with a grin.  “We were there.”

“Are there.”  Cloud corrected with a grunt as he concentrated on drilling through the tough plastic of the container.  “Every day.”

“You two-“  Aerith pronounced solemnly as she returned to a self-appointed task.  “-are no fun.”

“So, no nap today?”  Cloud teased her gently.

Both young women glowered at him.

Cloud looked up and blinked owlishly.  “Huh?”

“You _never_ joke about taking away nap time.”  Tifa informed Cloud with a superior look, having abandoned her task to clutch at her chest theatrically.

“It’s integral to our success.”  Aerith agreed just as earnestly, folding her hands together and gazing up at Cloud imploringly.  “Nap time is _important_.”

“Er, ok?”  Cloud ventured rather bemusedly as he flicked his gaze between the two women uncertainly.

“Good.”  Tifa pronounced with a satisfied smile as she returned to her task.  “So, you won’t mind when we double naptime today.  Even if you don’t actually fall asleep you’ll just have to suck it up and be our cuddly Cloudy-bear.”

“Right.  Ok.”  Cloud muttered as he went back to his task, his blond hair falling forward to shield his shyly pleased expression.

“Is he a bear though?”  Aerith pondered thoughtfully as she worked the soil.  “Or a wolf?”

“Cloud did nurse that wolf cub back to full health back home.  I think he was about five or so.  It hung around him until it found a pack to call its own, but it would occasionally bring him dead rabbits and such for a while.” 

“ _Tifa_!”

“Then it’s settled!”  Aerith grinned mischievously as her soil-covered hand darted out to tug on the earring in Cloud’s ear.  “He’s our fierce, cuddly Cloudy-wolf!”

“Agreed!”  Tifa chimed in over Cloud’s embarrassed splutters, the two girls exchanging a victory fist-bump to seal the deal.

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	13. Rebirth

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Cloud made sure hold on extra tight to them that afternoon as they rested.  The sunbursts of intense warmth that Aerith and Tifa’s rhythmic breathing inspired in his chest keeping the images of blood and terror and worthlessness at bay.   Cloud sent up yet another round of thanks to the goddess for allowing him to have these vivacious, flawless young women in his life.

It made his heart stutter and his breath catch when he took time to look around and take in just how _blessed_ he was; how good he had it.

He was blessed, he knew, to have Aerith and Tifa and Ma and Elmyra- and even that asshole Cid.  Cloud _knew_ that there were so many others who were more deserving, who were braver, better, and-or worthy.  Yet it was Cloud who was here, in this moment, trusted to guard these living, breathing shards of his tattered, shattered soul.  Cloud knew he was _broken_ and _battered_ and _less than nothing_ but yet somehow he had been fortunate enough to find these vibrant, magnificent fragments of himself and they had embraced him, despite his shame. 

His failures. 

His _fatal_ blunders.

Cloud held his breath as Aerith’s brow contracted and she grumbled sleepily before she wriggled a little higher and settled back down.  Tifa’s brow furrowed for a moment but she easily settled back down once Aerith had slipped back off into peaceful sleep.

The tears that gathered in Cloud’s eyes were hated even as they were cherished.  Hated because he was _not_ weak- _he wouldn’t be weak, not for these precious people that loved him despite himself_ \- but cherished that he had something- _living breathing people who smiled at him and laughed with him and loved him so easily_ \- to feel so intensely about.

Cloud knew without a doubt that if he lost these precious, precious people there would be nothing of him left.  He would breathe but not exist.  Be but not live. 

 _Please_ , Cloud begged the goddess as he shoved his face into Aerith’s earthy toned hair, absently noting the pieces of Tifa’s dark locks intermingled freely with the flower girl’s own, as he took heaving, nearly desperate breaths.  _Please let the Lifestream take me long before any of them.  I would never survive it if they left me alone.  There would be nothing of me left but an empty shell.  Please don’t let them be taken from me._

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“Hidin’ much, brat?”  Cid drawled amusedly as Cloud scuttled into the shop with a slightly harried expression.

“They’re _menaces_.”  Cloud complained half-heartedly as he donned his apron and checked his tools. 

He and Cid’s current project was working on some more motors so they could see about starting up a foundry or something.  A lot of the metal collected really needed to be melted down in order to be properly made into something useful.  There was also a worrying amount of trash plastic piling up.  The amount of glass used in packaging or just littering the streets was also quite considerable.

Sector Eight had an old, abandoned factory that had once been used by Shinra back when they had just been a weapon’s company.  Cloud and Cid had spent the better part of a week of afternoons tromping around the place after the playground had been completed surveying the place and they had been pretty pleased with what they had found.  Purchasing the building had been simple as it had been for sale for quite a while, but providing the amount of power they needed was problematic because quite frankly the Shinra power supply to Sector Eight- the Slums or the Upper Plate section- was problematic at best and positively shitty in all honesty.

A problem easily solved as long as they could make a more efficient magnet-powered motor.  If they could make a central, large motor they could run power to the rest of the plant without needing to hook up to the Shinra grid.  The issue they were trying to work around, however, was that they needed their prototype to be about thirty-five percent more efficient to make the solution truly viable.

If they could make it work, though, the opening of the plant could revolutionize the Slums.

According to Cid, Shinra outsourced a lot of their shit after the closure of the Space Program.  Which had made sense to Cloud, after things had been explained to him.

The Space Program had done most of the general use fabrication due to Weapons Development claiming that they had too much to do as it was.  Therefore, when Space had been shut down, Weapons Development had needed to pick up the slack.

_“That bitch Scarlet loves her shitty so-called fucking dresses and high life to dedicate a lab or two to the fucking necessary component needs.”  Cid had explained while they walked around the abandoned factory, occasionally needing to eradicate a monster or two as they poked around a bit.  “And with the way those dipshits manage money, it’s cheaper for Shinra to outsource, even though they should be able to fucking make the shit themselves for cheap.”_

_They had walked around a little more before Cloud had asked the question that had been bugging him.  “But doesn’t most of this discarded shit belong to Shinra?”_

_Cid had stepped up onto a metal-grate catwalk and looked around the place with a wistful expression.  “We get this place up and running, Cloudy, and we can make a killing off of melting shit down and making bulk pieces.  Shinra is too bloated with greed to fuckin’ realize the true value of the shit they toss aside, because according to them it wouldn’t be cost effective to recycle the shit.  They toss it down here and cut their losses.”  The elder blond had given Cloud a sharp grin.  “And no matter how powerful those Turk bastards are, there’s only so much they can fucking do against the people.  We get this right and we’ll have enough people behind us to make Shinra play nice.”_

_“You don’t think they would just come in and take us over by force?”  Cloud had queried curiously._

_“We’re in Midgar, kid.  Under that old fat bastard’s kingdom.  Half the fucking Infantry is from here, not to mention we’ll be employing bastards that have been shafted by Shinra.  We the people have the power here and it works to Shinra’s favor to let us be.  With the shitstorm they’ve got going on with those AVALANCHE bastards and the unrest in Wutai that fat bastard can’t afford to bit the hand that feeds him so close to home.  By the time any of those situations resolve themselves we’ll be firmly entrenched in the lifeblood of Midgar- not just the Slums, either- and going against our operation would cause Shinra’s hold on the city to shatter.”  Cid grinned ruefully before flicking out another cigarette and lighting it.   After taking a long drag, the man had continued. “I know how that asshole’s mind works, kid, and they’ve got way bigger problems than us and by the time we become a problem they’ll be pretty powerless to stop us.”_

_“Huh.”  Cloud grunted in thought as he looked over the dusty, decrepit place, his mind overlaying what was and what could be in his mind’s eye.  “Do you-“  Cloud trailed off, looking down and to the left as he scuffed his boot against the floor agitatedly._

_“Do I think what?”  Cid asked around another exhale of smoke.  “Do I think we can do it or do I think we can get this place up and working well enough to get you a non-Shinra-fucked prosthetic?”_

_Cloud peeked up at Cid through his bangs hesitantly before dropping his gaze back down to his boot scuffs in the silt.  “Not just me.”  Cloud said softly after a few moments of companionable silence.  “But for the others.  Some just need little fixes but some of them need wheelchairs and shit.  Apartments that have been retrofitted so they can actually live instead of just fucking exist.”_

_“And that, Cloud.”  Cid said warmly as he hopped down and clapped a warm hand on Cloud’s good shoulder.  “Is why we’re going to make this work.  You got brains and heart, kid.  More than enough to get the job done.”_

Cloud shook himself out of his reverie with a rueful grin and gaze Cid a sheepish look.  “Sorry, what was that?”

Cid barked out a laugh and repeated himself.  “Alright, so I figured out the fuckin’……..”

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	14. Tricky Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so nervous about this chapter. You have no idea. I've tweaked it so many times.
> 
> Uhm, please be nice?

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Cloud had been a late bloomer.

When he had first arrived in Midgar at the grand old age of thirteen he been so overwhelmed and stressed that he had not truly noticed this fact.  Oh, sure, he was aware of the fact that he was essentially his mother’s Gaia-damned clone.  All fine-boned, slender, blond-haired, and bright blue eyed.

Looking back, Cloud was incredibly grateful that he had not only made it to Midgar but that he had gotten into the Program only a few days after he arrived.  He had been far too innocent and scrawny back then and he occasionally shuddered whenever he thought about what _could_ have happened to him.

At any rate, life in the Barracks had been eye-opening in more ways than one.

Cloud had learned that sometimes boys liked other boys, that some people did not really like anyone but enjoyed watching or discussing sex-related things, and that you _never_ asked why your bunk was shaking a half hour after light’s out. 

Basic Training was twelve weeks and it had been overwhelmingly miserable for Cloud.  Cadet Training was six months and it had been during this phase of his life that he had had his first wet dream and begun to suspect that maybe he was not as attracted to Tifa as he thought.  By the time he had been assigned to his Squad Cloud had been pretty certain that he held more of an inclination towards males than females.   However even with that realization he still found it difficult to relieve himself, even when he actually wanted to.  It was as if he could not focus hard enough or something, it was maddening!

It had been the gentle- though blunt- advisement of the Squad ‘Mom’ that had allowed Cloud to feel like less of a freak and eventually grow comfortable in his own skin.  Well, the man’s actual nickname had been ‘Cookie’, but Corporal Specialist, (a rare rank that was actually above Cpl but below Sgt), Christoph Dunan accepted the teasing doled out for his penchant to mother his squad mates with good grace.

The Squad was an established and favored one.  While a few of them were married and technically were supposed to find their own housing when not on a mission the Squad mostly still stayed in their Shinra-supplied housing.  The Squad was broken up into two groups of four with Sgt Tembly being given a private room that was at the end of the hall near the elevator.  Each room had a bathroom and a small kitchenette, so it was not truly surprising that even when not on assignment everyone gathered in Cookie’s apartment for dinner.  The Squad spilt shopping duties, food costs and cleanup duties; but as they were housed in an older building in Sector One’s original Infantry Complex, they felt it to be a fair trade to keep from having to visit the Mess Hall.

Not to mention Mess Hall food slowly rotted one’s soul, according to Jonesy.

Cookie had commandeered Cloud to help with dinner- not an entirely unusual occurrence- and had asked Cloud what was wrong one afternoon after a particularly frustrating morning shower that had not gone as planned.  By that time Cloud had been comfortable enough with his Squad to admit to Cookie that he felt a bit weird touching himself, like it relieved one tension only to create another.  Cookie had listened understandingly and then had candidly explained that while taking care of oneself was nothing to be ashamed of, everyone was different. 

_“You need to figure out your own body, kid, but just because you don’t feel the need to rub one out three times a day doesn’t mean you’re weird.”  Cookie explained kindly as he fluttered about the Squad’s kitchenette, having put Cloud to work peeling potatoes at the small table.  “And having a few problems with getting yourself to the point of no return doesn’t necessarily mean you’re defective or some shit.”_

_“It still makes me feel kind of like a freak.”  Cloud muttered moodily, peeling the potatoes efficiently and setting them aside.  “I mean, what sort of guy can’t even jerk off properly?”_

_“You’re more than just a body, kid, but your body’s state of being is still important to your overall health.  But everyone is different.”  Cookie turned to give Cloud a reassuring grin before going back to fussing with whatever was on the stove. “Explore, discover, and all that shit but just because you don’t spend half your life in the bathroom with a bottle of lotion doesn’t make you abnormal.  I know that Jonesy had trouble until he met Lem, unable to really get any true relief until he had someone he cared about to focus on.”_

_“That can happen?”  Cloud asked, intrigued.  “I mean, usually it’s really hard for me to focus and it ends up being a mishmash of thoughts that eventually gets me there.”  Cloud quickly ducked his head to hide his embarrassed flush._

_“Yeah.  Some people are like that, they gotta have an emotional connection for the attraction to really go anywhere.”  Cookie took one of the pots of the stove and checked the oven as he continued.   “Once you’re comfortable with yourself, if you don’t feel like relieving yourself often, then don’t.  But you gotta be careful with that shit because your sexuality is a part of you, no matter which way you swing.”  Cookie deftly removed something from the oven and adjusted the temperature.  A dexterous turn later and Cookie had snatched up a wooden spoon and pointed it at the very embarrassed Cloud.  “You just gotta figure out you, kiddo.  Now, get started on the onions, that’s enough potatoes.”_

After his accident Cloud had not had his head on straight enough to even _consider_ that part of himself. 

As he healed, though- meaning after he had met Aerith- his sexuality had slowly come back to the fore of his mind.  Relieving himself still felt strange, but he was comfortable enough with himself to recognize a lot of his trouble came from not having a focal point.  Cloud had had a few short-lived relationships- one with a woman and two with other men- and he had discovered that until he got to know someone no amount of aesthetic attraction translated into heady arousal until he had established a fairly solid friendship with them.  Not to say that he did not experience short bursts of desire towards particularly attractive people, but those spikes usually petered out fairly quickly without any sort of emotional connection to sustain them.

At any rate it made relieving himself something of a trial.  Usually it happened while he was standing underneath the spray of the shower, eyes closed and his good hand wrapped securely around his length.  Cloud would have to focus fairly intently as he struggled to hodgepodge together enough arousing thoughts to reach completion.  Once- _if_ \- he managed to reach completion he would be left slightly relieved but just a bit lonelier than before.  

It was a frustrating conundrum.

 _Still_.  Cloud thought as he watched his pearly white essence slowly disappear down the shower’s drain.  _At least I don’t feel like a freak of nature.  It was really bad there for a while in Cadet Training and during my first few months in the Infantry.  I mean, what kind of guy can’t even jerk off without a struggle?_ As he reached for his washrag and soap, Cloud wondered if his former squad mates ever realized just how much their guidance had meant to him.

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Cloud grunted in annoyance as he struggled to hold on to the rope he was using to try to lever a section of catwalk into place at the factory in the Sector Eight Slums.

Cid was off on the other side working on the area that would be used to process plastics, but Cloud really wanted to get the metal fabrication area started.  There was an area to melt down the metals and keep them in a liquid state not to mention several presses where the metal could be formed into all manner of shapes, lengths, or thicknesses.  From what they had gathered this factory had done a lot of the fabrication for the construction of the Plate and Shinra Tower, so there was plenty of flexibility for Cid and Cloud to exploit.

The catwalk just needed to catch on the bracket that Cloud had installed and then Cloud would be able to begin work on the second level.  The second floor held a series of split conveyor belts that took smaller metal pieces- such as old brackets or tire wells and the like- and ran them to separate holding containers.  The platform where pallets of parts could be lifted up by forklift was thankfully intact, but the catwalk had apparently received some damage at some point and the original brackets had snapped off.  Fixing the brackets had been a bit tricky, but doable as Cid had helped Cloud rig up a portable torch to a ladder.

“Shit!”  Cloud snarled as the rope slipped a bit and the catwalk pitched precariously, canting dangerously to the side and straining against the support ropes he had set up.

A leather-clad hand shot out and helped Cloud regain control just as he decided to let the damn thing fall and try again.

“Wow!  This thing is heavy!”  A male voice yelped in surprise as he helped Cloud maneuver the stupid catwalk into place.

“Mostly just awkward.”  Cloud grumbled as they finagled the catwalk onto the brackets and the metal holders took the weight of the catwalk off the ropes.  “Tha-“  Cloud stared to say as he turned around, but his voice cut out on him when he realized just who was behind him.

Aerith was off to the side- he had seen her out of the corner of his eye, which is why he had not reacted badly to the unexpected help- looking at him hopefully.  Tifa was to Aerith’s right, holding a basket of what Cloud idly assumed was dinner as it was most likely getting on in the day.

However Cloud’s attention was fully captured by the man before him.  Spiky Black hair, bright violet eyes, and a tentative but optimistic smile.  As the moments passed and Cloud continued to stare flatly at the man the smile dimmed and he reached up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“So, I’m-uh, Zack, and I’m really sorry and- wow you have a great poker face, do you play poker?  You should!  I totally can’t-“  The man continued to babble, his eyes sliding shut as he shuffled backwards nervously.  After cracking open his eyes a sliver and noticing that Cloud’s expression had only grown stonier, the man’s smile dropped completely and he bit his lip nervously.  “Well, uh, I just saw the girls-“  He gestured to Tifa and Aerith.  “-and thought I’d escort them.  Not that they _need_ an escort or anything and I totally wasn’t stalking you but-“  The man’s eyes snapped open as he pasted on a painfully plastic grin and his cheeks slowly grew redder as he continued to dig himself deeper into the metaphoric hole.  “-and I swear I wasn’t being a creepy stalker or anything, but I was just worried about you and- I should go.”  He turned to Aerith and Tifa.  “Uh, see ya later Aer!  Nice to meet you Tifa!”  The man turned to leave, shoulders drooping with resignation and discomfort.

Then a sound made him stop and whirl around to look at Cloud in confusion.

“I can see why Aer described you as a _puppy_.”  Cloud managed to say around his amusement. 

The man looked slightly offended.

Cloud smiled at him.  Sweet and shy and vastly amused.  “I’d run if I were you, SOLDIER boy.”  Cloud drawled, his Nibel twang seeping into his tone unexpectedly.  “If you stay, I might just put you to work.”

The man’s whole being seemed to brighten as he bounded a bit closer.  Then he dropped down and did a few squats for some reason Cloud could not comprehend.  “Sounds great!”  The man cheered as he bounced up on his toes a bit and grinned brightly.

Aerith’s beaming grin and Tifa’s proud smile soothed Cloud’s lingering insecurities and helped him give the man a cocky smirk.  “Yeah, just remember that you volunteered, _Puppy_.”

Zack Fair squawked in offended outrage, but Cloud blithely ignored him and sauntered over to hug Tifa and Aerith, much to their amusement.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, feel free to journey over to Tumblr and check out the AMAZING fanart(s) waifujuju did for this story!
> 
> Both of them are on my blog or you could just check out hers- whichever way you should go appreciate the visual awesomeness~!


	15. Momentum

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“Wow!  You’re really good at that!”

Cloud, satisfied with the state of his latest hotfix patch job, shut down the table torch.  The blond man casually flipped up the bulky welder’s mask so he could level a droll scowl at his commentator.  “Don’t you have an actual job, SOLDIER boy?”

Zack Fair, comfortably seated at one of the small tables piled high with odds, ends, and project schematics, just graced Cloud with a bright, unrepentant grin.  “Aw, don’t be like that, Spike!”  The dark-haired man fiddled with the metal bits in his hands as he turned his attention back towards his self-appointed project.  “I brighten your day!”

“You _something_ my day.”  Cloud muttered without heat as he critically eyed the clamps that were holding his mostly-repaired piece in place while it cooled, wiping his hand on a rag as he did so.

“So mean, Spike!”  Zack pouted at the blond man who was giving him a highly unimpressed glower.  “And I’m not here _that_ often.  I only get a chance to come visit you, like, once every few days.  And it’s usually really late in the afternoon, so you’re working at that factory of yours and grumpy!”

”For the past month or so.”  Cloud drawled bemusedly, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he sauntered over towards Zack and took a seat at the table the other man was tinkering at.  “Randomly popping up at the factory after I’ve spent the entire day dealing with _idiots_.  And yet you keep showing up.”

“Yes!  And I _help_!”  Zack proclaimed proudly, choosing to ignore the small snort that escaped Cloud as he did so.  “Besides, now you’re almost ready to fire up your forge-melter-thingies.”

“Forge-melter-thingies?”  Cloud choked out incredulously, his eyes bright with mirth.  “Are you sure you’re a big, bad SOLDIER?  I distinctly remember them having an IQ requirement…..”

Zack puffed up in mock-offended indignation, having become somewhat inured to Cloud’s rather fatalistic, sarcastic sense of humor over the past month.  “Yeah, well, because of all my _awesome_ help you’re almost ready to move your operation to the factory, so _ha_!”

Cloud gave Zack one of those super sweet smiles that were shy but full of warm affection.  “Yeah.  Thanks.”

Zack nearly melted into a puddle of contented goo. 

It might have only been a month of sporadic meetings with the blond man, but Zack was already firmly attached. 

Cloud was a _snarky_ little shit, but there was an undercurrent of compassionate steel to the man that just made Zack’s insides squirm.  Not just his insides either, if he was being entirely honest.  Zack adored the stubborn expression on Cloud’s face when he was problem-solving; the one where he set his chin defiantly and pursed his lips in thought always made of Zack’s blood abruptly rush south.  Then again the way Cloud’s normally stern expression would melt into one of warm, pure affection when Aerith and Tifa dropped by always made Zack’s pants a bit uncomfortable, too. 

Well, Aerith or Tifa or Cloud’s Ma or Mrs Gainsborough.

Even the cocky expression that would overtake Cloud’s face when that asshole Cid would show up and inspire nearly Genesis-level bitchy friendly banter made Zack a bit warm under the collar.

“What’s with the dopey look?”  Cloud’s lazy drawl snapped Zack out of his reverie and the SOLDIER gave the other man a sheepish grin as he internally scrambled to recover from his mental lapse.

“Nothing!”  Zack sang brightly, going back to fiddling with his busy-work project.  “I was just thinking about those awesome cookies that Mama Strife made the other day!”

“Ma _does_ make awesome snickerdoodle cookies.”  Cloud allowed with another one of those affection-laden grins blooming on his pretty pink lips.  “She made awesome Ginger Snaps back home.  We used to dip them in hot cocoa or spicy cider whenever we ended up snowed in during the deep winter.”

Zack gave Cloud an incredulous look.  “You dipped _cookies_ into apple cider?”

Cloud broke out into soft chuckles at the utterly aghast expression on the other man’s face.  “Wow.”  Cloud finally managed after a few moments of mirth.  “You should see your face, Puppy.  You look like I just announced that- I dunno, afternoon walks or naptime was cancelled!”  Cloud dissolved back into his amusement when Zack’s countenance transition from culinary indignation to take on the visage of a pathetically kicked puppy.

Before Zack could make his passionate case for the proper protocol when enjoying homemade cookies, the door to the small shop burst open admitting Aerith, Tifa, and the already prolifically cursing Cid.

“Oh, hi Zack!”  Aerith chirped brightly, skipping over to give the SOLDIER a friendly peck on the cheek before she continued on to go fuss over Cloud.

Cloud immediately squawked in offense as Aerith began scolding him for something or other.

Tifa, who had finished setting down a few items she had apparently been carrying for Cid- who was still muttering a steady stream of curses- meandered over as well.  She gave the SOLDIER a friendly punch to the arm instead of a kiss, but the sentiment was the same.

“You’re not usually here this early in the day, brat.”  Cid growled from the other side of the shop after a few moments of almost silence.

Almost silence, because Aerith was standing with one hand planted on her hip with the other was formed into a traditional ‘you’re-in-trouble-mister’ finger that was insistently poking Cloud in the chest while she continued to scold Cloud.  Unfortunately the scolding seemed to be taking place in the language of inside jokes as Zack couldn’t make a lick of sense of the words, despite being able to technically understand them.

“Yeah, well-“ Zack answered the other man, reluctantly tearing his eyes away from the bossy brunette and wide-eyed blond that was firmly in her sights.  “-things have been pretty easy lately, since most of the Firsts were recalled to Midgar.  Supposedly we’re supposed to be having a seminar or something, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

Cid harrumphed derisively.  “As if it’s unusual for Shinra to drop the damn ball hallway through the game.”

Aerith whirled around and pinned Cid with a disappointed frown.  “Cid.”  She chastised the instantly contrite Cid in a tone that was rife with underlying threat.  “We _do not_ make digs at Zack’s job.  It’s not his fault Shinra’s management is mostly full of self-absorbed idiots.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Cid grumbled in reluctant acquiescence, turning back to his project and proceeding to seemingly ignore the interlopers in his shop. 

Cid was not feeling charitable enough to pay attention to the fact that the shop was actually Cloud’s.  The blond brat was the reason why the Shinra smart aleck and the diabolic duo were currently taking up space. 

Ergo, the shop was Cid’s and he was the only sane man in the damn place.

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“Well, whatddya think?”

Cloud tore his eyes away from the bustling factory floor and offered the brightly grinning Aerith a slight, but no less happy, smile of his own.  “It’s amazing.”  Cloud murmured as Aerith bounced closer and imperiously tucked herself under his good arm.

“Yea, well, you’ve worked really hard to get everything up and going so quickly!”  Aerith chirped excitedly as Cloud tugged her a bit closer and she rested her head against his chest. 

“Had help.”  Cloud muttered somewhat bashfully, as his hand idly toyed with the ends of Aerith’s hair.  The blond glanced down and met Aerith’s happily shimmering green eyes with his own nearly glowing blue.  The action caused them both to smile- Aerith’s smile softened while Cloud’s widened a bit, but both expressions were full of tender, wholehearted affection- and Cloud paused to press a tender kiss to her hair before he turned his gaze back to the lively activity below them.

“Ugh.  You two are so cute it hurts.”  Tifa’s amused voice cut through the moment easily but she merely sauntered closer and wrapped her arms around the two from behind, propping her chin on Cloud’s bad shoulder.  “But don’t sell yourself short, Cloudy.  Without you this place never would have come together.”  Tifa gestured towards the floor as Cid came hurrying through the masses, shouting orders and generally being a pain in the ass.  “This place is employing nearly three hundred people, starting today.  That’s not including the hundred or so that are operating the dropoff points throughout the Slum Sectors to supply this place with raw materials.  Think about all the kids who are going to be able to eat now, just from picking up trash and turning it in.”

“Not to mention that these three hundred are just the first shift of people.”  Aerith added cheerfully.  “They are working eight hour shifts, so there is room for two more shifts of people.”

“And if we do half as well as Cid expects, we’ll be adding those in less than a month,”  Tifa helpfully reminded Cloud, snuggling a bit closer and yawning widely into Cloud’s shoulder.  “Then Mama Strife and Mama Elmyra should be able to get their schoolhouse operation off the ground.”

“They are so excited about that!”  Aerith laughed.  “They plan on doing what they’ve been doing- focusing on trades and the like- but also trying to teach the basics to the younger ones.”

“Tifa wants to open up her bar, too.”  Cloud reminded them with a slight grin directed at his fellow Nibelheim native. 

“The Slums needs a good old hometown-style bar.”  Tifa defended sleepily.  “A bar like _Chancey’s_ back home.  One with soft lighting, quality drinks, good food, and games like pool or card tables to keep things constructive and positive.  We need some music, too, but a section where people could sit and chat while watching a game or something, too!”

“That’s our Tifa.”  Aerith said warmly, lacing her fingers with the ones Tifa’s had near her waist.  “Of course, she also wants to kick the jerks who would dare to start fights at her bar in the teeth.”

“Before she hurls them out the door.”  Cloud added helpfully.  “Full body contact with the ground.”

“You’d better be-“ Tifa yawned widely.  “-elive it.”

“Nap time?”  Aerith suggested around her own yawn.

Cloud made a small noise of protest, but allowed himself to be led away to the ’emergency nap room’ Aerith and Tifa had set up in a small side-room to Cloud’s office. 

Originally it had most likely been for records storage or perhaps a secretary, as it had held a door and only three walls.  The girls had gleefully filled the small room with plants, all manner of comfy pallet-style squishy materials to nap on, and Aerith had even painted a decent approximation of the stained glass from their church nap room on one of the walls.  Sadly, the room did not have a window, but the girls had sneakily enlisted the help of Zack- and Cid, who had been highly amused at their subterfuge- to install a much larger fan in the ceiling in place of the original light fixture.  The door had been replaced with a rather flimsy sliding door from a Wutainese thrift shop, but the glow in the dark plastic that Aerith had littered through her wall art gave the room plenty of soft light, so the small room seemed cozy as opposed to suffocating.

“It’s different.”  Tifa murmured drowsily as she and Aerith arranged their pliant and obedient human pillow to their satisfaction.  “But it’s comfortable enough for those days when we don’t have time to go all the way back to the church.”

“Hmm.  Agreed.”  Aerith sighed happily as she pulled in deep breaths of her favorite scents.  Green met red-brown and both women smiled dopily before they settled down to rest, content in the knowledge that the world would _burn_ before Cloud allowed anything untoward to touch them.

In a place like the Slums, with its Don Corneo and a thousand and one other things that lurked in the shadows to prey on young women, being able to sleep deeply was a luxury. 

It made the hours they spent resting while Cloud kept watch over them all the more precious.

That and their Cloudy-wolf was just that damn comfy.

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	16. Relevance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is sort of an interlude as I wanted to get this backstory out there so things could make sense.
> 
> I hope it seems believable and feels like a natural extension of the story.
> 
> Thanks to the lovely Shivani for her assistance with certain parts of this!  
> (Though any and all mistakes are still mine and mine alone!)

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Claudia Strauss had been left an orphan after the Dark Winter. 

The ‘Dark Winter’ was the winter when over half of Nibelheim came down with a strange illness and over half of that half perished.  The illness had baffled the town doctors and the Shinra scientists who had been called in to investigate.   All the usual indicators of an ailment were missing, despite the fevers, extreme fatigue, and others various garden-variety symptoms the sufferers experienced.  All the bloodwork came back clean, nothing was in the lungs, and no other physical indication that something was _wrong_ presented itself to the healers.  

The illness had mostly affected the eldest and the youngest of the town and most of those who recovered were the younglings; nearly every person over the age of forty who fell ill passed before the first daffodil of spring unfurled from its bulb.

Claudia had been twelve and scared out of her mind.  She had sat in her family’s humble home, numbly watching her father’s body slowly dissolve into threads of Lifestream, absently wondering if it would not better for her to take her father’s hunting knife to her flesh rather than face life on the mountain without her Ma and Da to guide her.

Before Claudia could finish that grim train of thought, however, Brenna Strife had come barreling through the front door- a door that that Claudia had long since barricaded; mostly to keep out the cold, as her family’s finances had been drained by the sudden illness of her parents- and swept the young girl up into a fierce, warm hug.

Brenna Strife towered over most of Nibelheim’s residents, including her husband.  The curvaceous blonde woman usually had her waist length hair spun up in braids, could swing an axe better than just about everyone but her husband, and was a thirteenth-generation mountaineer.  Brenna could trace her lineage on the mountain to a time _before_ Nibelheim had existed in its present state.  Her family and the Strife family had intermarried countless times over the years culminating into a common joke among those born in raised at the base of Mount Nibel as Brenna’s family name had been _Harmony_ before she had married Sven Strife. 

The Harmony family and the Strife family were among the last of who still spoke Old Nibel.  As opposed to the more common Modern Nibel that the town had adopted over the past century as trade with the Midlands and other places brought in new visitors- some of whom chose to stay- and the spoken language slowly drifted as the result.  Recently the Schoolhouse had ceased to teach the written form of Old Nibel.  The reasoning behind the decision was that as technology improved and Nibelheim became more connected to the rest of Gaia, most trade was done in what had been dubbed ‘Gaiinese’.

Therefore even to Claudia’s native Nibelheim ears Brenna’s voice was accented, the vowels rougher and the consonants harsher despite the kindness and compassion in her tone. 

_“You’ll be coming with us, Audi.”  Brenna had informed the girl briskly once Claudia had been set back onto her own two feet.  The words were spoken briskly but kindly and Claudia absently noted the calloused hands that ruffled her limp hair as Sven wandered past her and deeper into the humble Strauss home.  Sten, the only child of Sven and Brenna Strife that had lived to see his teens, came to stand beside Claudia, wrapping an arm around her waist and allowing the younger blonde to loll her head against his steady shoulder.  “I won’t be entertainin’ any arguments either, missy.  You’re Sten’s best friend and a good girl, an’ I won’t be leavin’ ya here to struggle alone.  Have I made myself clear, missy?”_

_Claudia hadn’t even tried to argue with the mother of her best- and only, truthfully- friend._

Sven and Claudia had always been best friends, but from that point forward they were something more.  Fiercely protective of each other and about ten shades of adventurous the next few years had passed in a blur of happy moments gathered around the fire with the whole family or Claudia and Sten challenging each other as they helped cut wood for the family livelihood.

Then came the day that Papa Sven was killed by a tree dropping in the wrong direction.  Mama Brenna had withered without her gentle bear of a man beside her and her dearest wish had been to see Sten happy and married before she joined her husband in the Lifestream.

There were many things Brenna Strife understood but the lack of a desire to marry was not one of them.

Claudia, well aware of her best friend’s, (her brother and confidant and soulmate), predilections had taken Sten aside and begged him to marry her so that Mama Brenna could pass on peacefully.  Sten, ever concerned for Claudia, had been extremely reluctant to trap his beloved friend in a marriage that would prevent her from ever being able to have a proper family with a husband who adored Claudia as a lover.

Claudia, naturally, had passionately defended her proposal.

_“I don’t care!”  Claudia cried, wisps of blonde hair swirling about in the breeze as she tried to get Sten to see reason.  “I love you.  Maybe not like a wife should, but it is still genuine love!  I would rather Mama Brenna be happy and you be safe from those-those gossipy hags than nothing at all!  I don’t even like any of the idiots who want to bed me!  You know this!”_

_“Audi.”  Sten discouraged lowly, patient and kind and so very, very tenderly.  “I can’t-“_

_“You can and you will.”  Claudia had hissed in the same manner as an offended feline, poking her dainty index finger into her friend’s burly chest.  “You will allow me to marry you, to protect you, because it is what I want and what we both need.  We can figure out the logistics later and you can keep me warm at night with your ridiculous body heat but you will not deny me, do you understand me, Sten Strife!”_

That spring when Mama Brenna had passed on to the Lifestream, Claudia Strauss had become Claudia Strife.

The marriage had not stopped the most vicious of the gossips, not when Claudia had been highly sought after as a potential bride and Sven had snubbed more than a few local princesses.  Yet they were happy together and when Sven started seeing Gavin Greenhart, Claudia had been happy for them.  The blonde had been more than willing to provide cover for them by spending long nights curled up near the fire with a good book while they explored each other in the safety of the windowless spare bedroom. 

Over time, though, even more vicious rumors began to swirl as Claudia and Sten remained childless.  The Strife couple really did not pay any mind to them, but it was during all this that _he_ had arrived.

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Reeve Tuesti had arrived in Nibelheim to study the Reactor and plan for it to be upgraded.  He had been led up the mountain by Sten Strife and had easily become friends with the gentle bear of a man.

Reeve, having a rather acute set of senses, had quickly divined the true nature of Sten’s relationship with the town’s Herbalist.  Being a man of honor, and having met the lovely Claudia Strife both in town and as a guest in the Strife home, he had confronted his friend about the ‘affair’.

Sten had come clean about the true nature of his relationship with Claudia and the arrangement they had come to regarding their sexual needs.

Nearly half a year later a broken-hearted Reeve had departed Nibelheim, with a fervent desire to never return to the sleepy little town.

Reeve did not blame Claudia for breaking off their quiet relationship, not with the rumors that had begun to run through the town and how it had affected the family’s livelihood.

Even still, Reeve’s heart was broken.  Claudia was vibrant and intelligent and _everything Reeve had ever wanted;_ but she belonged to Sten, belonged to Nibelheim, and Reeve-

-well, he would move his parents to Midgar and keep himself busy.  Eventually he had married but that had ended fairly quickly and Reeve had mostly kept to himself and his projects when not spending time with his folks after that particular disaster.

However, as Reeve stared at the reports that Tseng had slipped to him after the executive meeting that afternoon Reeve wished that he had fought harder or even just gone back to Nibelheim one last time.

 _Cloud Strife was Reeve’s son_.

Reeve and Claudia had made a baby and that baby was now a grown man.

Ruvie- Reeve’s mother and the sweetest woman alive- had a grandson that she had never met.

Reeve sighed heavily and allowed his eyes to drift over towards his prized Cait Sith.  The little robotic toy had been why he had known about Cloud and Cloud’s connection to Claudia; had been why he had cashed in a favor and asked Tseng to have Mark Hollander run the tests that sat before him in clinical black-and-white.

The Slums and the living conditions of the people there were a constant source of concern for Reeve.  Therefore when Cait had come across a park with flowers in it Reeve had been interested.  That interest had multiplied once he had discovered the rudimentary- but highly effective- air circulation system near the park.  The newly-tapped fresh water source had only cemented his desire to somehow become involved. 

Reeve had needed to run a bit of interference to keep Shinra from noticing the changes, but most of the people who had noticed were interested in letting the situation continue.  Even Tseng had been unnaturally sharp when Reeve had asked about Cloud- _his son, his and Claudia’s son_ \- and Reeve held no illusions that Tseng would have silenced him had Reeve planned to oppose Cloud’s progress.

Reeve was desperately curious as to _why_ that was, exactly, but given what he knew now, Reeve was just thankful.

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Reeve older than the timeline says he is. He's an engineer and architect for the Reactors and I always pegged him as being older than it says he is.
> 
> Uhm, please don't hate me?


	17. Depths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **clears throat nervously**
> 
> Uhm, have some badly written almost-smut and Zack feels?
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful Shivani who pulled me out of my spiral of writing-depression after some rather tetchy hate from random people.

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Zack Fair did most of his thinking about life, love, and the universe in his bathroom.

As strange as that might sound to say aloud Zack felt comfortable in thinking most people were the same, no matter what Genesis said about Zack being an overexcited _weirdo_.

Zack’s Shinra-supplied apartment was done in Shinra’s universal cost-effective shades of despicably off-white and half-hearted gunmetal grey.  Zack, needing to inject some serious cheer into his hallowed thinking space, did his best to spice things up by adding cheerfully vibrant washcloths and towels.  The floor boasted a magnificent shag rug in an eye-searing shade of magenta that made the floor nearly glow.  The bright orange toilet cover had been stolen twice- by Genesis, who had stolen Zack’s spare key from Angeal- and stuffed in random trash cans, but Zack had hunted it down, washed it, and returned it to his proper place.  Sephiroth, of all people, had gifted Zack the tie-dyed little glow-in-the-dark stars that Zack had tacked up around the mirror and then spread out over the walls.  Angeal had provided the wicker multicolored hamper with the removable cloth bag to make laundry easier to move to the laundry room, thoughtful man that was.

So, really, Zack’s sacred temple of philosophy was the _coolest_ one in all of Shinra Tower and no one would _ever_ convince Zack otherwise.

Still, as Zack stood still under the spray of his shower, his forehead resting against his braced arm while his other hand steadily worked his arousal, Zack wondered how he had gotten in this deep without really noticing.

Cloud had always been attractive to Zack.  From the first moment Zack had laid eyes on the blond, covered in blood and all other manner of fluids on that shitty battlefield on the Northern Continent. 

However, after that horribly awkward incident with that _jackass_ Turk threatening Aerith wherein Zack had seriously put his foot in it, Zack had been determined to make up for his horrid first impression. 

Well, the first that Cloud remembered anyways.

So Zack had begged Angeal for advice and, in the end, Cloud had actually given Zack a second chance to make a first impression.

That shy, sweet smile of Cloud’s was going to be the death of Zack, he was _sure_ of it.

As they spent time together, though, Zack’s fantasies involving Cloud transitioned from being fragmented moments of mindless passion to actual domestic incidents.

That should have been his first clue, but for all that Zack could pick up details that most missed when he focused, he tended to miss blatantly obvious signs sometimes.

Zack no longer simply wanted to see Cloud arch up in pleasure while in Zack’s bed- though Zack was very, very interested in seeing that in living color- but also seeing a sleepy, grumpy Cloud in the mornings.  Hair all askew and wearing one of Zack’s shirts- or being shirtless, either would be delectable- stumbling into the kitchen while Zack made the first pot of morning coffee.  Zack could just picture the sweet, though still slightly grumpy, grin when Zack sat down a piping hot cup of coffee- the mug would obviously have a golden Chocobo on it, perhaps with a cute saying because Zack was a dork like that- in front of him as Zack took his own seat across the table.

Zack could just _see_ it, could see that another thousand or so domestic moments that made him warm and hot at the same time. 

Zack wanted to be able to walk up behind Cloud when the blond was ambushed by the girls, wrapping his tanned arms around all three of them, because anyone Cloud deemed worthy of his love was worthy of Zack’s love too.

That and the girls were amazing in their own right, but the fact that Cloud loved them just made them that much more special to Zack.

Zack wanted to watch his Mum and Cloud’s Ma chat over family dinner while Zack’s poor Dad tried to keep up with the conversation.  Tifa and Aerith- and possibly Aerith’s Mama, as Elmyra loved Cloud almost as much as she loved Aerith- would be there, too.  Of course Zack would be there, Cloud tucked up next to him as the blond offered snarky little comments and sweet smiles.

Zack would love for Angeal, Seph, and Gen to be there, too, but that could come a bit later, when the family was a bit more comfortable with the elite trio of SOLDIERs.

Zack wanted to watch Cloud work on his amazing projects in his little shop.  Zack adored the stubborn little furrow that formed in between Cloud’s brows as he worked through the unexpected complications of a project.  The way the blond’s pouty bottom lip would be abused by his teeth as Cloud methodically worked through the kinks.

Truthfully, there was a damn good reason as to why Zack stayed seated at one of the little side-tables as much as possible when Cloud was busy.  The man was damn adorable!

Zack grunted and worked himself faster as his favorite fantasy slithered through his mind’s eye.

One of his absolutely favorite fantasies was the one that had Zack propping his head up on Cloud’s good shoulder to get a better look at what the blond was tinkering with.  Zack would slip his arms around the blond’s waist and Cloud would settle back against him a let out one of those happy noises that made Zack’s heart flutter and his blood rush south.  Zack would kiss his way up Cloud’s neck while slowly running his hands over the blond’s hips before one hand would slip up to caress Cloud’s lower torso and the other would skitter teasingly across his lover’s thighs.  Circling, but not quite touching the blond’s growing arousal.

Cloud’s voice would grow rougher as his attention slowly wavered from his project and onto Zack.  Or Zack’s ministrations, to be a bit more precise. 

Zack _really_ enjoyed the accent that slipped into Cloud’s voice whenever he grew agitated. 

As Cloud slowly relaxed into Zack’s hold the SOLDIER would grow bolder and slip one calloused hand underneath Cloud’s work shirt and tease the muscles properly.  Zack would ensure to dance his fingertips across Cloud’s injured arm, reassuring the blond that Zack adored _all_ of him, even the parts of himself that Cloud despised.

Seeing as how Zack was taller, his erection would press against the full curve of Cloud’s tantalizing ass.  A fact Zack would love to take advantage of.  Zack would just picture himself reaching around and grabbing hold of Cloud’s clothed arousal.  The thought of causing the blond’s breath to hitch and sending that lovely arse bucking against Zack as the SOLDIER teased him with unfulfilling, playful strokes was quite enticing.

Actually, Zack had no real idea what would happen after that as he usually reached the point of no return as he imagined his name slipping past Cloud’s parted lips as little more than an aroused moan.

“ _Zack_ ….”

The tension coiled in his belly snapped and his vision whited out for a moment as he released.

Zack panted into his braced arm, sweat and water plastering his hair to his forehead as he came down from his post-orgasmic high.

But the ache in his chest, the one he wanted to fill with Cloud and stupid domestic moments and kisses and long conversations, only twisted a bit more.  A bit larger, a bit sharper as the ache burrowed deeper inside his bones.

Zack’s eyes misted over as he used his free hand to punch at the wall of his shower- not too hard, the shower was only reinforced to a certain point, after all- but that did nothing to alleviate the aching desire for Cloud to be a part of Zack’s _life_.  For Cloud to come fill the void inside Zack’s life with his sweet smiles and unrepentant snark.

_I never do anything with half my heart, huh Angeal?_   Zack thought somewhat morosely as he reached out his free hand fumble with the tap in order to adjust the water’s temperature.  He hissed when his hand slipped and the water went from ‘a little too warm’ to ‘Shiva’s favored bath water cold’.  It took a few more half-hearted tries to get the water just right once again, but by that time the aftershocks had died down and his muscles felt a little less jelly-like.

_It’s worse than I thought._   Zack mused thoughtfully as he slowly straightened and reached for his cheerful yellow washcloth and his favored soap.  As he began scrubbing himself, he allowed his thoughts to drift back towards what had finally begun to accept.

_I’m in love with him._   Zack thought with a rueful grin as he replaced his washcloth and reached for his shampoo.  It was the work of all of two minutes to finish his hair and before long Zack had completed his actual shower and reached out to shut off the tap.

_I’m in way deeper than I thought._   Zack sighed to himself as he hopped out of the shower, snagging his fluffy towel and drying himself off rigorously as he tried to get his mind ready to face the day.

As his hands went through the familiar motions of buckling up his uniform, Zack smiled softly- sweetly and tenderly and more than a touch wistfully- as he thought of his favorite blond.  _I wouldn’t change it for anything, though_.  _Knowing Cloud.  Even if I wish I hadn’t put my foot in it the first time we officially met._   Zack decided as he double checked his gear and reached for his weapon, deftly fastening it to its the metallic sheath.  _He’s amazing.  Even if I never have a chance with him as a partner, just spending time with him is worth all this pathetic pining I’m doing._

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	18. Flower Power

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much, much love to you all!!

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“Look at it, Cloud.”  Cid drawled excitedly, gesturing to the bustling factory floor below them.  “This is all because of us.”  The gruff pilot cracked an excited grin at the other man.  “Mostly ‘cause of your damn motors.  We employ over a thousand people now, and we’ve only been in the full swing of things for a month.”

They- Cloud and Cid- were leaning against the guardrail outside their offices.  Well, their factory-side offices.

Cloud hummed softly, but he smiled that elated, proud smile of his as he looked out over the hubbub of activity and just the general sense of _life_ taking place below them. 

Cid called that a fucking win and turned back to stare out over their current pride and joy.  _Planet_ , but watching these people go about their jobs was damn magnificent.

Team leaders- or Leads, who were essentially assistant supervisors- called out corrections or encouragements to their groups of five to fifteen people. Quality Control employees critically examined the paperwork, comparing the neatly printed off specifications to what was happening in each section.  Supervisors were directing forklifts or people with pallet jacks and pallets of materials in various stages of completion in between helping their workers verify information or showing their people how to work equipment.

It was loud and chaotic and there were more than a few curse words being bandied about but the overall sense was one of excitement and hope.  Two things that were rather hard to come by in the Slums.

The factory was nearly six stories high at some points, but the west side- which faced the main road, and thus was the ‘front’ of the building to the public- housed the public entrance.  The front door of the factory led to a rather posh waiting area and then a nice office area, the front section having fairly hefty soundproofing.  Behind the entrance area and the ‘front offices’ were the offices for the factory management, which were more utilitarian and functional than gaudy and showy. 

Well, that was how it had been designed, but for the moment the front offices were mostly empty, save for the receptionist who answered the phone and called for Cid or Cloud when someone walked in and inquired about a job.  There was an application that could be filled out by hand, or on one of the rigged up computers.  Planet, it could be downloaded and filled out and sent in via PHS, but the sad truth was that nearly half of the residents of the Slums were either entirely illiterate- meaning they could neither read nor write- or their reading or writing was so poor they could not properly fill out the paperwork. 

Neither Cid nor Cloud wanted to pass over good workers due to things that could be fixed.  Literacy, physical infirmity, lack of experience- all of those things could be either fixed or worked around as long as the person was willing to _work_.  Both men would rather need to train their workforce than end up hiring crime syndicate plants who were really only there to cause dissension or otherwise disrupt operations.

One of the ways the big crime lords stayed in power was because only those under their umbrella of ‘protection’ had access to education, medical services, and other things that could possibly improve a Slum citizen’s quality of life.  Most of the shops- outside of WallMarket- that sold higher quality merchandise were marked by a particular syndicates- usually denoted by a small sticker in the bottom left hand corner of the front window or near the register- and only served those from the syndicate, lest they be ‘penalized’.  Those that would actually serve non-syndicate members usually charged at least twice to three times the median price for items, mostly to protect themselves from syndicate reprisal.

There were smaller, independent shops but they were closer to the outer reaches of the districts.  The further from the central core- the area directly below where the Shinra building was housed Above the Plate- one ventured the higher the chances of getting caught up in the eternal turf wars between mid-sized or smaller gangs.  The constant power struggle benefitted the major crime bosses, so they were more apt to contribute to the violence under the table- via supplying weapons or other such things- than to end things.

To help combat this issues, Cid and Cloud put together a small militia.   Well, ‘militia’ was a bit of a misnomer, as the groups were essentially only doing what the police force _should_ be doing.

The majority of their reasoning was due to most of the factory workers living in squalor, barely scraping by while paying outrages prices to live in places that could be comfortably replaced by cardboard boxes.  There were some who were entirely homeless, of course, but the men were not entirely sure which group got the shittier end of the deal.  Crime was rampant and unchecked, deaths were fairly common, monster attacks and ‘disappearances’ were fairly normal, the water was unclean, and generally their situations were essentially _inhumane_.

Cloud’s minions- and Cid _laughed his ass off_ about that, at every available opportunity- Aerith had dubbed them ‘the Flower Guardians’ and sewed flower badges for, though most people simply called them ‘the Guardians’.  There really hadn’t been any major altercations since they had begun patrolling the area around the park, but coming up on just about a month ago they had nearly been wiped out by the Sector Fix Slum big boss.  The Guardians had protected their areas and pushed the interlopers back- most of them were former military or had by now been trained up by those who had served- but then some unexpected allies had shown up.

The fucking Turks.

At first the leader of the idiot’s goon squad had thought that the Turks were there to help- as it was no real secret that Shinra secretly funded several of the major syndicates- but Tseng, the Director of the Turks, had merely shot the idiot in the head before coolly announcing that the Guardians were a silent allowance of the Turks.

Cid and Cloud had both been pissed as _Ifrit’s fire_ , but as much as Cid and Cloud loathed Shinra, that Tseng was a pretty quick talker.  Combined with Tseng’s smooth argument and the women’s- Aerith, Elmyra, Tifa, and Mama Strife- opinions, Cloud and Cid had been forced to see past their Shinra hate and cooperate.

The women were magnanimous enough to allow both blond men to sulk and bitch about the deal in their Shop, however.

With the quiet backing of the Turks- the Turks had not directly involved themselves since that day, but they regularly came through the area and chatted with the Guardians on duty, which was a pretty blatant sign in and of itself- the Guardians had not only held their ground, they had then pushed back.  Cloud- even if the brat did not want to admit it- now controlled the entire back half of Sector Five Slums.

And, really, Cid could think of worse things to do for the Turks- even if he would rather _never work with them at all_.  Hiding ‘people of interest’ from that creepshow mad scientist Hojo and keepin’ them outta AVALANCHE’s hands at the same time was a pretty tame task, and one that Cid would like to point out _they woulda done anyways_.

Cloud’s little SOLDIER lover boy- oh, how Cid wanted to _cackle_ every time Cloud missed the obvious clues the excitable little shit let slip- came down semi-often as well.  At least once a week, unless Zack Fair, SOLDIER First Class was on a mission.  Cid was learning to like the little shit, despite his occupation.

(Cid blithely ignored the little voice that _swore_ if the SOLDIER ever hurt Cloud, Cid would cheerfully shove him into a faulty rocket and launch him into outer-fuckin-space.)

Still, the women had jumped on the bandwagon and now the whole back half of the Sector Five Slums was being renovated.  They were making a lot of the materials at the factory, actually.  Not just simple renovations either.  The lady scientist that had come with that loud asshole Wallace- Tseng had dropped them all off at what Claudia Strife, called the ‘stork house’ just before the factory opened, actually-  was making all sort of plans for one of the old apartment complexes to be accessible for vets like Cloud who had some ‘unique needs’.

Of course, she was also working doubletime to get the operations that would allow them to make prosthetics up and going, too.  Cid approved those expenditures.  Cloud was a damn saint and would baulk at what Cid was paying her, but Cid wanted the blond brat to have full functionality in both his arms!  Cid didn’t give a damn that Cloud had lost an arm, but he was damn observant enough to notice how not having a damn prosthetic slowed the brat down.

Cid had plans to get to space, dammit!  Cloud needed both hands to help make that happen!  They had projects to complete!  Barriers to shatter!

Cid’s rather random ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of the Diabolic Duo in all their whiney pre-naptime glory.

“Clooooooood!”  Aerith sang as she bounded over and bodily tossed herself at the younger blond.  “You’ll never guess what happened!”

Cloud, who had obligingly shifted to catch her and was holding her limp form up with his good arm, quirked an eyebrow at her.

Aerith- a silly grin on her dirt-smudged face, her half unspun braid trailing over the railing carelessly- grinned brightly up at him.  “Tifa finally decided which place she’s gonna make her bar!”  Aerith lolled her head back just a bit further- and only missed hitting her head on the railing because Cloud pivoted her away from it slightly just as she moved- beamed brilliantly over at her amused partner-in-crime.  “Tell ‘im, Tifa~!”

Tifa chuckled and sauntered the rest of the way over, bumping Cloud lightly with her hip- causing Aerith to squawk as he almost dropped her- and gave Cid a friendly slug to the arm in greeting before she settled in between the two men, against the railing.  “Yep!”  She chirped brightly, terribly amused as Aerith switched positions so that she could cling to Cloud like a limpet.  “It’s a decent distance from the park, but not in the middle of the residential districts.  I didn’t want to put it too close to the shops, either, but it’s closer to them than it is the park.”

“It’s in one of those awkward little triangle lots that never made much sense to me.”  Aerith muttered, half of her face smushed unrepentantly into Cloud’s firm chest.  “We gotta move quite a bit of crap outta the way-“

“Understatement.”  Tifa muttered with an amused huff as she crossed her arms in front of her.

“- but it’s gonna be pretty big, and we’ve sorta got a structure to work with!”  Aerith gave Tifa a thumbs-up gesture.  “It’s gonna have an awe kitchen, and some pool tables, and a bar, and some tables for, like, card games and stuff, and some booths, and other fun stuff!”  Aerith nodded seriously, but most of the gesture was lost and it mostly looked like she had nuzzled Cloud’s chest, albeit a bit awkwardly.  “Across, well catty-cornered, really- the street Mama Audi and my mama are gonna open a bakery, a general store, a hair salon, and a few other things I can’t remember right now.”

“Well, I know the crews from the first apartment complex should be done within a week, they’re only working on testing everything before we open up the place for showing on Monday.”  Cid mused as he swiped up his clipboard- it had been hanging on a nearby hook- and rifled through some papers.  “The crews doing the actual houses are bit more spread out, but that crew really hit their stride by the time they finished the first floor.  Maybe we should mix them up……?”  Cid trailed off and looked up at the Diabolic Duo- plus Cloud.  “Since I’m pretty sure you wretches are gonna kidnap my business partner-“

“Nap time!”  Aerith sang out cheerily, lifting a bangle clad wrist in victory for a moment before she returned it to Cloud’s waist. 

“Right.”  Cid drawled, three parts amused and one part annoyed.  “I’ll go scout the site and get back to you fucking hooligans.”  Cid spun on his heel and ambled away at a reasonable pace.

“Such a nice man.”  Aerith sighed happily as she dragged her silent, willing captor towards the ‘emergency nap room’, Tifa following along behind them.

“You’re quiet today, Cloudy.  What’s up?”  Aerith demanded sleepily the moment they were all arrayed out on the cushy nap ‘bed’.

“Well.  It’s just.”  Cloud sighed and rand his hands over Aerith’s silkier than usual hair hair- Ma had taught the others how to make soaps and such, even Tifa hadn’t known how, and the Gainsborough women were quite appreciative of their new hygiene products; especially since Ma had showed Aerith how to mix in bits of her flowers for scent- occasionally reaching over and twisting a few strands of Tifa’s equally silky locks and absently twining the two distinct colors together before starting the process all over again. 

“Mmhmm.”  Aerith hummed drowsily, Tifa echoing her and both of them yawning at nearly the same time.  “Well, you think about it and tell us after we wake up, ‘k?”

“Ok.”  Cloud agreed and both girls slipped off into sleep fairly quickly after that.

Cloud, however, continued to toy with their hair and tried to calm down the chaotic whirlpool that was swirling inside his head.

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